


Body and Soul

by mcmachine



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Celebrity AU, F/M, Gen, NaNoWriMo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-08-14 09:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 108,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16490306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcmachine/pseuds/mcmachine
Summary: One of the most popular and beloved actresses in America, April Kepner has scored another role of a lifetime – the first ever female James Bond. Her co-star, however, seems the caricature of nepotism. Billionaire philanthropist and photographer, Jackson Avery, grandson of the movie’s world-famous director, has managed to get the part of the love interest in her movie despite only have minor television roles before.The eyes of the entire world are on them as they have to learn how to navigate around each other. However, Jackson might be the only one capable of finding out why April really wanted the role.





	1. Chapter 1

**_ APRIL _ **

In, out. In, out. In, out.

Holding onto the deep breath that filled my lungs for a moment, I listen to my body. I can feel the fullness in my lungs and the expansion of my stomach, the openness of my nose, the way that my shoulders had sunk down. To relax means to calm the mind, the body, or both. Most of the time for me, it ended up being that both were necessary. Picking one or the other didn't work for me. I just ended up as stressed as I was before.

Stress wasn't good for me or my brand. High blood pressure, heart disease, diabetes, obesity. Overeating or undereating – although only one of those was really considered a bad thing in my field and I needed to be in tip-top condition for this particular role, it was more than just keeping slender. Our bodies are designed to handle small doses of stress. But, we're not equipped to handle long-term, chronic stress without ill consequences. I wasn't an exception as much as I would have liked to be. My primary care physician and psychiatrist had both reminded me of that many times over the course of the past ten years. I was supposed to be growing, or something like that. My career was. That was what the media cared about, at least, but I needed to look beyond my career. That was something that I often found rather difficult to do.

Hair loss was another one of those little side effects and something that I really needed to avoid at all costs given that I was supposed to be growing out my hair for this particular role. They wanted it long, thick, and sexy. Skin problems went right along with that but I wasn't quite as worried about that. Curology took good care of me ever since I had done some advertisement work for them. My skin was just as important to them as it was to me. At least that was one less thing for me to worry about.

Slender fingers combed through my hair and I took another deep breath through my mouth, releasing it through my nose. Having my hair done and taken care of was usually relaxing. A scalp massage was the only kind of massage that I had ever enjoyed having. One perk of having someone constantly taking care of my hair.

"Ow!" I yelped as my eyes flew open. "Jesus Christ, be careful."

So much for relaxing.

"Sorry, April," Jo apologized from behind me as her fingers pulled a tangle out of my hair. "That was the last one, I swear."

"It's okay." I forced a smile across my lips, shutting my eyes again.

Filming didn't start for another few weeks while the last details of pre-production were finalized and permits were acquired for some of the filming to be done outside of the studio. A photo shoot was to be done today between my co-star and me. I just needed a few extensions placed in my hair to make up for the length for the beach waves.

Stress would only increase once filming actually started, of course, I knew that. I'd had my fair share of big awards since I had hit my early twenties and gotten a breakout role in a thriller about a woman in an abusive relationship and her escape from it. My first big role and I had gotten an Oscar for Best Actress in a Leading Role. This movie was supposed to get me another one, theoretically. James Bond was an icon and to take the role and make him into a Jane, that was a big deal. Strong female roles were at an all-time high demand. Everyone in the industry my age and younger had been gunning for this role. The audition process had been brutal and even heartbreaking for some of the actresses involved. All of the gossip magazines had raved about how lucky I was to be able to score it, but between me and the other cast members, I wasn't the lucky one.

Jackson Avery was the lucky one.

Billionaire philanthropist and photographer, and son of the movie's director, Harper Avery, he had barely had any real acting experience. I had scrolled through his IMDB page only to find that it was embarrassing bare beyond this role on it. He just had a few little roles here and there, guest spots that only came around for the name recognition. I had never actually seen him on anything. That was a threat to the success of the movie, as far as I was concerned. I knew that this was important to Harper Avery, too. He was getting old and it might be his last big chance at getting another Best Director Oscar award. Hopefully, he wasn't willing to throw away all of that solely for nepotism. It would have been a huge disappointment for everyone involved.

But he was very attractive. The trope of being a Bond girl was to be an attractive love interest and he could at least check off. Jackson had the strikingly light eyes, too. There was no sexually suggestive name for his character and that was something that I was happy about.

"Okay, your hair is all done," Jo announced as she brought elegant mermaid waves in front of my shoulder. It reached the bottom of my ribcage now that all of the extensions were in place. "Beautiful."

"Thank you, Jo," I breathed out. "You did wonderful, as always."

"Now, to finish off the smokey eye, here." She handed me the eyeliner. I hated having someone else do it.

"Thanks." Taking the pencil and leaning forward, I swiped the thin liquid tip across my lid, just above my eyeliners. No cat eye or anything fancy, just enough to add a little darkness there. I refused fake lashes – it seemed rather pointless given I knew that they were already going to go into photoshop and tweak things here and there for the poster.

"You look smokin' hot, Miss Bond." Jo clapped her hands excitedly as she stepped back.

I smiled at her in the reflection. "This hair seems like it would be a hazard in a spy movie," I remarked. "But it is pretty hot."

"That's what men care about, isn't it? Women looking hot. Even when it's supposed to be some big feminist movie," Jo commented. "But, you'll look hot and you'll kick ass. So at least there's that."

"That's the goal," I remarked with a huff of air. "Is the photographer ready?" I asked.

"Yep. And I just got a text from Deluca, Avery is ready too and apparently looks very sexy." She replied. "I swear, this movie is going to sell off the sex scene alone."

"Definitely not the goal," I rolled my eyes. "Thanks again. I'll see you later."

My contract was already finalized. There was no way that I was going to be getting naked on screen, no matter what the role was. Lingerie was as scantily clad as I was going to get. No nipples or more. From what my manager had told me, the same wasn't necessarily true for Jackson. But that was fine. He was the Bond girl, I was Bond. I wasn't the one who was supposed to be all about sex. I could leave that up to him.

Getting changed and stepping out, the drape and lighting were already set up for the two of us. I felt like I had to look like the Black Widow more than any kind of Bones – he was frequently in suits and tuxedos, especially for movie posters. Black leggings and a tightly-fitted black blouse, holster on my right hip. I had refused to put a dress on for this. Directors either loved or hated the fact that I was quite vocal and, well, so far Harper Avery seemed to be quite on board with it. He seemed content on pleasing me in whatever way possible. My co-star in my last movie had worked with him before, and she had plenty to say about him. His behavior thus far didn't surprise me.

Jackson was easy to spot. He was already there and talking to the photographer – Benjamin Warren. It looked like they were already quite friendly and he was making some kind of suggestion, I assumed, from the way that his hands were moving. I didn't know him well enough to guess otherwise. This was, after all, our first meeting.

He was dressed in a tuxedo but made a bit more casual. The top few buttons on the dress shirt were unbuttoned so that you could see his collarbones and the top of his pectorals. He did look really handsome.

"April!" Ben called out amicably, motioning me over. "My God, you look perfect. A vision."

"Thank you," I smiled back at him. "Are we ready to go?"

"Of course, get out there," he motioned. "We're going to get some solo shots of you first before we get the two of you together." He explained. "Power. Elegance. Superiority. You know the role that you're playing and what you need to emit."

I did. I had been doing my homework for all of this. I wanted to blow Daniel Craig out of the water. My entire life was dedicated to my craft and I had done nothing other than it. It was my life nothing else. Which meant I had to do the best that I was capable of. I couldn't settle for anything less.

Getting on the other side of the camera, I let the assists do their job, little fixes here and there smoothing out wrinkles of the shirt around the prop gun and positioning my hair as they want it. Modeling wasn't something that I had ever had interest in even though I knew that this was necessary to a degree for the movies, posters, and photo shoots, but I could get into character and emit the kind of power and grace that I needed for this. Chin up, shoulders back, chest proud. Angles change and adjustments are made as the camera continued to flash.

Feedback is given and I listen only with half a mind, not wanting the distraction. Getting into character meant getting deep inside of my head. It meant forgetting about April Kepner and thinking solely as Jane Bond.

"Alright, Jackson, let's get you up there with her," Ben stated.

Tossing back the long hair over my shoulder, I straightened up as he came to join me. He was nearly a foot taller than me and seemed to absolutely tower over me. A flat apple box is brought for me to stand on to try and make the height difference between us less imposing than it actually was. The top of my head reaches his nose instead of his chin.

"Now, you two need to be very comfortable around one another," he reminded us. "Ignore that box you're standing on. Jackson, bring your head down a little but make sure that we can see those eyes."

His breath was against my ear, both hands on my hips. I could feel him against my backside, clearly comfortable with me and this photo shoot without any getting to know me. Even though there weren't a ton of rumors around about him and his romantic life, he must have either kept that private or preferred one night relationships over anything long-term, it seemed like he was comfortable around women. Photographers, too, though that made sense. But Jackson seemed utterly comfortable in my personal space. I couldn't decide how I felt. I'd always valued my personal space even if this industry had taught me how to adjust to invasions.

"Here, hold on," Jackson murmured. His fingers brushed against my ear as he fixed my hair. "There."

"Thanks," I murmured, feeling my cheeks heat up.

It was a natural response. A hormonal response, likely. It had been a while since I had any action of that type and he was really, really attractive. I had never wanted to date or be with a co-star, especially not while filming, given all the complications that came from that and the media gossip that would inevitably follow. But maybe once things were over, it wouldn't be such a bad idea.

"Very, very sexy. You're oozing it." Ben complimented. "Let's try a different pose."

The next one was much more classic Bond, the gun out and flashy, Jackson in the background. I couldn't help but hope a shot more like this would ultimately be chosen for the cover. I wanted the same treatment that every man who had taken this role before me had gotten, even if I had to be a so-called diva for it. I wouldn't have made it this long if I couldn't deal with a double standard.

Shutters of the camera continued to go off as every angle possible is captured between the two of us. After a few minutes spent together, I don't mind the physical contact between the two of us quite as much, the hand on the curve of my hip or on my shoulder. Nothing was too over the top even if anyone who had ever seen a Bond movie could pretty much guarantee there would be some kind of relationship between the two of us. As popular as the movies themselves were, they were also very predictable. It made for a sequence of trying to top whatever came before.

Truthfully, I'm surprised by how quiet and focused Jackson is. Even if he had a background in photography, I would have expected something a little more… air-headed, or obvious to his inexperience in the acting industry. But I guess photoshoots were comfortable for him.

"I think that we have everything we need," Ben announced and Jackson's hand fell away from my side. "Do you want to see the shots?"

"Of course," Jackson answered quickly.

"Sure," I echoed, following him over.

Bending over in front of the computer to look, Ben scrolled through some of the photos that had been taken and pointed out a few of the ones that he particularly liked between us. We looked good next to one another – I looked powerful, like I wanted, in the photos and I was sure that once all of the adjustments had been made, it would all look even better. He looked handsome, commanding, but not the center of attention in the photos. Maybe he would be better at this than I expected him to be.

Most of the other people that I had worked with in the past weren't newcomers to the scene, even when I had been one. It was just the way that things had worked out, never an intention of mine, though it had become more of a conscious thing for my agent to look into as I took bigger and more serious roles. This was the last kind of project that I would have expected to work with someone like him in, but it wasn't enough to veer me away from taking the role. This was way too important to me and I had far too much invested to let Jackson Avery, or anyone else, scare me away from taking the part. I needed to be here. This was my goal, my purpose – it was just where I was meant to be at this point in my life.

"They look really great, Ben," I commented.

"You two look fantastic together," he replied. "Makes it very easy to capture. You'll look great on the big screen and I know this poster is going to be everywhere once it's out."

"Yeah," I agreed and released the breath I was holding onto. "That Avery name will go far."

It's not intended to be a backhanded comment, more just something of the truth, but I feel Jackson's gaze slide onto me after the words. "My grandfather has certainly made a name for himself in the business," he agreed slowly. "But so have you. I'm sure you'll be pulling quite an audience all on your own."

"Thank you." My response is slow as I eyed him skeptically, brows drawing down slightly. "I uh, excuse me, I need to go get changed out of this."

Something about him struck me as odd – he just wasn't what I had expected him to be. People with that kind of money, who grew up in that kind of way, they were always… well, obvious about it, even if they didn't open their mouths up. Child stars went awry more often than not, it seemed. Even if he hadn't been one, he had still grown up in the spotlight in his own way.

It was far from the way that I had grown up, that small and overcrowded farm in Moline, always sharing a bedroom with one of my sisters. Use early in the morning to tend to the animals and busy in the kitchen by evening to help my mother with preparing dinner for all of us. There had been no fancy, light mirrors and organizer trays and drawers filled with make-up, no real diamonds and other jewels worn. I had grown up modestly, though that was putting it nicely. That was what the media reported. I didn't like presenting myself as a rag to riches story. I had gotten here off of my talent an I knew that, but I didn't need to make a big deal out of it. The past was in the past. I was content to just leave it there.

Once I was in the dresser room, I quickly stripped out of the clothes that I was in, putting on a pair of jeans and a button-up blouse. I wiped off my makeup with one of the wipes provided entirely, just putting on a little foundation to cover up any imperfections and lighten a few of my freckles. The extensions could stay for a little while longer. I liked how they looked, actually. This was one of the better hair changes that I had gone through with for a role.

Checking my phone and making sure there was nothing emergent waiting in the notifications was there, I tossed my purse over my shoulder and walked through the studio. People were packing up which meant that nothing more was needed here from me.

"Thanks for being great today, April. You know I love working with you." Ben clapped me on the shoulder.

"Thank you," I smiled back at him and this time it was genuine.

Heading over toward the door, I nearly brush against Jackson as he headed for it at the same time. We both paused and then reached against for the door at the same time, and I let him get it for me with a smile of thanks. Opening the door let in a rush of cold air and noise following a few seconds later. Squinting against the sudden change of light, I realized that there was a group of paparazzi waiting for the two of us to come out of the studio, yelling and cameras clicking again following immediately. Typical.

"April!"

"Jackson!"

"Look over here!"

Both our names are yelled out by the cluster of people and my chin is immediately brought down and gaze on the ground. Ie the paparazzi. It's the aspect of my job that I hate most. I don't like people intruding on all of my personal life and details, getting in my face with their cameras. It always made me immensely uncomfortable but there was little I could do to avoid it.

Looking around for my car, I very quickly realized that it wasn't there and could feel my heart rate spike. I didn't want to be stuck out there with them. There was a car waiting, but it was clear that it was for Jackson and not for me.

"Is your car not here?" He leaned down to ask me.

"No," I shook my head.

"Here, come with me," he offered and waved me over. "Better than standing out here with the vultures. I can give you a ride home."

My heart pounded in my chest as I glanced between Jackson and the paparazzi that were going crazy with questions about how things had gone between the two of us today, most of which I attempted to tune out even if the noise was hard to ignore overall. His offer was a lot better than being stuck out here with all of them, that much was impossible to deny.

"Okay," I agreed with a quick nod.

Jackson's hand fell to the small of the back as he guided me into the car first and I sat down on the leather seat, quickly scooting over to make room for him. There was finally a bit of quiet between us again as the door was shut and the majority of the noise was cut out, drowning away into the distance as the car began to drive. I leaned forward and gave the driver my address.

"That's easily the worst part of all the fame," he remarked as he leaned back and folded one long leg over the other. "They never seem to go away. And damn, are they good at finding you."

"Yeah," I agreed thoughtlessly. "It actually drives me out of my mind."

"You're very good at staying composed," Jackson commented.

"Well, I don't think I would be very good at my job if I wasn't. Acting is kind of demanding." One shoulder lift and fell in a shrug, and I crossed my own legs as I allowed myself to lean back. It was a room vehicle, plenty of room still between the two of us even with his long legs.

His gaze was on me, kind and yet… consuming, at the same time. A rare look. "It is," he murmured. "Yet you still seem to be very dedicated to it. Harper talks very highly of you."

"Good to know, I suppose." I chewed at the inside of my cheek. "He's very well-respected."

"Yeah, I've been hearing that my entire life," Jackson chuckled. "People are always vying to work with him in one way or another. Everyone except for me, I suppose." He stated flippantly.

Furrowing my brows as I looked at him, I tried to make sense of what he was saying. I had assumed that he had asked for the role from Harper. Why else would he be doing this? If Harper had asked him to take it, this was an interesting twist that I hadn't seen coming. Nepotism still, in a different way, but not quite as bad as the first impression that I had on him. My lips pressed into a thin line and I spoke before my silence could become too apparent.

"What, you didn't want to do this role?" I questioned.

"Not really," he answered honestly. I couldn't tell if that made me like him more or less. Less, probably. "But Harper asked me to take it. I gave him the script and… I liked it. I like the movie as a whole, actually. It would have been something I saw without him being involved in it."

"Why did he want you involved?" I asked.

Jackson shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "He just said that he wanted me to take the role, to have a hands on. If I hadn't liked the script, and you, then I probably wouldn't have. But really, you're what convinced me."

"Me?" I stuttered out, suddenly shy. "Why me?"

"Your first movie. I saw it when I came out and I loved it. Harper showed it to me, actually. This was back when he was trying to get me into directing and would pretty much get me to watch whatever he could. He didn't realize then that I just wanted to be behind the camera in a different way. But the way you act… it's genuine. I don't really know how to describe it. You do something with your eyes that sells the audience into believing anything that you say and do. You're really good at it," he said, his words flowing out easily as if he didn't have to think twice about the compliments that he was feeding me. He seemed genuine, even if living in this world makes me a little skeptical of everyone. More often than not, people wanted something.

Rationally, I knew that I had done a good job with the film, even if I hated to watch myself on screen. I always nitpicked at everything I did. Putting so much of myself into the character was important that it felt weird to look at it as myself. But other people had praised the performance and I had won a major award for it. I knew it wasn't terrible, even if sometimes my heart and my brain had a hard time falling onto the same page.

Jackson seemed so nice, though. So genuine. Even if he wasn't very experienced as an actor.

"Well, thank you for that," I smiled as I looked over at him. "I wish I could say the same about you, but…" I let my voice trail off. He knew about his lack of acting just as much as I did, if not more.

"But I'm a complete newbie next to you," he laughed genuinely. He had a nice laugh.

"Yeah," I admitted sheepishly and could feel my cheeks turn red.

Even though it was going to be a big movie, there had been no screening test for the chemistry between the two of us. I couldn't tell if it was a good thing or not. I was seasoned and good with my co-stars, I always made sure that the press about me coming from the people that I worked with was positive. I was a people pleaser, almost compulsively and obsessively so. That was probably why they hadn't gone with one. I had thought there might be and would have been fine it. Prior to today, I probably would have preferred it, actually, given that I knew next to nothing about him and how the two of us would get along. But at the moment, it seemed like we were actually going to get along rather well. That was something to look forward to.

But I couldn't get too attached to all of it, I knew that. I had to be smart and reasonable about everything that I was doing going forward. That didn't mean that the two of us could be friends – but I wasn't sure how it was going to play out in the long term. Not only were movie sets a testy place to be, and stress was often high for many people involved, but this was still about so much more than about just the movie.

"Well, if my experience is anything to go off of, sometimes first movies can be very rewarding." I offered conversationally, not wanting things to turn awkward between the two of us. "Nothing to be nervous about."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Yeah, if I can get anywhere near that, I think I'll be set for a while."

"I think that you're already set," I remarked, referencing to his money. It was just a part of his name. "It should be interesting, working with the both of you. A good friend of mine – Amelia Shepherd – she worked with Harper a couple of films ago. She had a lot to say about her experience working with him."

"Oh yeah?" His eyebrows rose up in his forehead. "Well, I hope they're as good as the things that he's been saying about you."

"Guess that depends on what he's been saying about me," I smirked, tilting my head and leaning toward him slightly. "Do you care to share?"

He wet his lips as he looked at me. "I'm sure it's nothing he hasn't said to your face, honestly. He's very upfront."

"That he is," I leaned back against, chewing at the inside of my cheek.

Jackson wasn't terrible. I could decide that right off the bat even if there was still some worry about how things might play out with him being inexperienced – more shots would be taken, it might be a distraction to some of the other things that I needed to focus on. Focus was important to me and I didn't want to be distracted by a pair of pretty eyes, no matter how nice and distracting his seafoam hues were when I was sitting this close to him. They were really, really nice. I didn't realize that I was staring at them so openly until a few seconds had passed.

"Miss Kepner, we're here." The driver announced suddenly as the car pulled to a stop.

"Thank you, Doug," Jackson spoke up. He got out of the car before the driver could and opened up the door for me, extending his hand to me to help me out. I took it.

"Thank you, Jackson." I smiled up at him as I straightened up. He was still towering over me just the same even if it's a little different now that he's in plain clothes and not a quarter-unbuttoned dress shirt. He was still just as handsome, although it was in a different way. "Really. You kind of saved my butt from getting stuck out with the vultures." I echoed his prior word choice.

"I don't mind," he smiled down at me. "I figure it's nice for us to get to know each other a little bit before we start working together. Even if it's just a quick car ride to save you from the paparazzi. I'm sure they got a hit off of seeing the two of us together."

"Yeah. Sorry, that I haven't reached out – I've been pretty busy." When wasn't I? "But yeah, they probably did."

His shoulders shrugged. "We both have, it's not a big deal." He brushed off. "I'm just glad we had the chance now. And given that I'm on a few of the off-site shoots, I think that'll make it easy, too."

"Oh, definitely." I nodded in agreement. "Obscure sites always have that kind of effect on people compared to the studio. It's just the way that it is. You'll see once we get started."

"Good to know," Jackson smiled. He stepped aside me back toward the car, leaving me by the gate to my house. "It was very nice to meet you, April. I look forward to getting to work with you."

"It was nice to meet you too, Jackson."

The car waited outside of the gate for me as I punched in the code to enter and walked up to the front door. Whatever irritation that I had initially felt upon my own car not showing up at the location was now completely gone from the quick ride and conversation that I had with him. It would make it a lot easier to arrive to set in the coming weeks without being bitter about his presence as my co-star, certainly. It was important to me to like the people that I worked with. Or at the very least, important to get along with them.

Smiling to myself for a brief moment, I looked down at my phone and scrolled through the messages again. There were a few emails from email lists and subscriptions that just needed to be marked as read, one from Amelia, one from Harper, one from my manager. All of it was typical.

Twitter notifications were going off, surprisingly. I wasn't terribly active on Twitter in the first place – I would go on and retweet things relevant to whatever project that I was working on or causes that were important to me, political or social. Occasionally I would post my own content and like things that fans sent me, art or stories, anything creative, really. I liked their passion for the content that I produced. It reminded me why I was so passionate. But today, it wasn't an influx of tweets from typical fans that were catching my attention. Instead, it was the typical Gossip pages that loved to make a mountain out of a molehill no matter what the situation was.

_APRIL KEPNER AND JACKSON AVERY SPOTTED TOGETHER._

_THE NEW JANE BOND AND HER BOND BOY._

_IS APRIL KEPNER ALREADY SEEING HER NEW CO-STAR?_

All of that had been managed to put together in such short notice off of the pictures of us leaving together and me getting into the car with him. I probably wouldn't have been surprised by the last one, even if I had been good up until now about avoiding romantic speculation in my life.

There were far worse rumors, that much was certain.


	2. Chapter 2

**_ JACKSON _ **

There was no such thing as a timid first day during my life.

When and where didn't matter. Private kindergarten, elementary school, high school, even when I had shown up for the first day of class at Princeton University, I had gone in with my head held high. I couldn't afford anything else. Introductions were meaningless and for the sake of being polite. My entire life, people had known who I was. It didn't always go the other way around. Expectations and assumptions had always been made about me and who I was. Rarely, they were accurate. Even the press knew that I was the black sheep of my family.

Today would be no different. Filming for Terminal had started a few days ago but my presence wasn't necessary for every day on set. I had my filming schedule penciled into my phone and the days that I would be there were long ones, of course. Fourteen to sixteen hour days weren't uncommon on movie sets from what I had heard from friends and colleagues.

Even my own mother had called to try and get a handle of things. She had wanted to be my manager for much of my life but I had pretty much pushed that off once I had learned to assert my own independence. I wanted to control my own life and she had always wanted to do that, too. It was the reason that we had butt heads and part of the reason that I had gotten behind the camera in a different way than her and Harper. We weren't estranged, or anything like that, but we didn't get along. She was always too controlling. I knew that I was inevitably going to run into her at some point or another while working on this movie, even if I couldn't help but hope it was pushed off just a little bit. A few days without her interference, while I was back in the city, would be welcomed.

Hair, makeup, and wardrobe were all pretty easy for me. My curls were grown out just enough to give a little peek of the curl there, a bit longer than shaven. Makeup doesn't bother me but even then, it's always light foundation and concealer to get rid of the near chronic bags under my eyes. My character was a doctor, so at least for the first scene we were shooting together, the wardrobe was pretty comfortable with scrubs and a traditional lab coat.

"Call time in five." One of the PAs announced as they knocked on the trailer door.

"Good thing that we're just about one here, then," Deluca said. He ran a lint roller over the lapels of the jacket and made sure that the crease was sharp. "Dr. Richard Danes. You got lucky that they didn't shorten it to Dick."

"Yeah," I chuckled in agreement. "Apparently, that was April Kepner's doing. She made a real push to get rid of some of the sexism in the original script after she got cast."

"Good for her," he commented. "Nice to see someone's trying to make a difference 'round here."

I gave a nod of my head. She seemed like a good person even if it was pretty clear that she was uptight. I knew that she hadn't grown up in the spotlight like I had, but it had clearly made an effect on her from the time that she had spent in the public eye. There were just some things that you couldn't prevent from happening. Creating a mask was one of them.

"I guess I better get going then, huh?" I smiled slightly.

Straightening up, I glanced at myself in the mirror and took a deep breath. This was much bigger than the small television cameos that I had taken in the past. I and the rest of the world knew it. Even if I avoided reading into press about myself, I wasn't oblivious to it. I couldn't just tune out the headlines that came across me. I was either blindly praised for my good looks and the family I came from, or heavily criticized for riding on the coattails of said family. There was no in between.

Assistants and technicians rushed past me in order to get all of the necessary props and equipment onto the scene for shooting to start. Shooting out characters meeting as two different parts – I find her hurt on the streets, shot outside, and then I bring her back to my apartment. The second half was being shot first.

Tape marks were already on the floor for both of us. I could spot April from her hair, sitting in her chair and waiting.

"Hey," I greeted her, giving a small smile.

"Hi." She replied, staring down at her phone for a moment longer before looking up at me, mirroring my expression. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," I breathed out. She didn't look convinced by my answer. "Do I need to even ask you?"

Something about her smile slipped out, a peak of something more genuine. "You can."

"Are you ready?" I questioned, losing some of the tension from my posture.

"Yeah. I am." April's expression was more real this time, less guarded than before. But I was sure that would disappear once she got into character. Truthfully, the photo shoot had intimidated me. Her ability to flip a switch and turn into someone different was incredible. No wonder she had made it so far already.

I would have to really make sure that I didn't disappoint her.

"Places, everyone!" The assistant director, Meredith Grey, shouted out loud.

"I know I'm new, but I think that's our cue," I commented, shooting her a wink.

That same genuine smiled appeared on her lips for maybe two seconds before it disappeared again and I could see that shift, something different gleaming her in her eye. I followed her over to the set, glancing down at all of the different markers on the floor and distinguishing mine from her. Being on the other side of a rolling camera was different than being on the side of one shooting still shots. All of this was a change of pace, but it was what I had signed up for. There was certainly no backing out and I would prove myself.

"Picture is up!" Meredith yelled again, informing everyone that a take is about to be recorded. I had made sure to familiarize myself with every terminology again. "Quiet, everyone! Roll sound."

Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes for a moment and tilted my chin up, just a little. She was seated on a bed in the set, makeup in place for the fake cut across her forehead, and I knew that underneath the blouse she was wearing, there was inevitably more for the bruising that she was supposed to have. This was shortly after one of her first big confrontations with the villain of the movie.

"Sound speed." The sound mixer said. "Speed!" Came his answer.

"Roll camera," announced Meredith.

"Marker!" The loud slap of the clapper back hitting each other occurred. A few more seconds.

"Action!" My grandfather announced.

Everything and everyone else stops mattering in that second.

Focusing on her, it doesn't feel like acting. It doesn't feel like I'm standing in front of one of Hollywood's biggest stars as her current on-screen partner but instead it felt like a completely different universe between the two of us and with the intense gaze and focus in her eyes even in a scene where she was meant to be the vulnerable one between the two of us. She still had such a commanding presence.

There was something enchanting about being this close to her physically and I wasn't sure if it was some charisma between the two characters and what had been written on the page for us, or a genuinely intoxicating case for her presence. It's hard not to stare at the cupids bow of her lip and I'm grateful, momentarily, that my character is supposed to be so obviously attracted to her and concerned for her wellbeing right off the start – it made my job that much easier. Only so much of what I had to feel in the moment was acting. Method acting hadn't been my attention but it was an easy trap to fall into. She was beautiful and something about taking care of her, giving her the opportunity to let her defenses fall down, it just felt natural.

Somewhere the line between my character and myself blurred. I didn't know how to feel about that.

"Cut!" Just as quickly as the scene between us had started, it had ended already.

Of course, it's not the only take of the scene. But I'm a fast learner in one regard. It's not necessarily the magic of a first take that made me feel this way. The same feeling, swelling inside of my chest though not necessarily making me nervous, came with each action that was called between the two of us, as camera angles change and small adjustments are made here and there to the way that she carries herself and the way that I touch her. The camera crew made sure to get everything that they needed.

"Alright, that's a wrap on that scene," Meredith announced. "Let's get this set down and keep going."

Without thinking, I offered her a hand to help her off the bed. April looks at me in surprise for a brief moment before she took it and stood back up, contact lingering for a moment before she let go and began to walk over to her chair again. I followed her.

"I hope that wasn't a let down for you," I remarked gently, keeping my tone playful and taking off the lab coat.

"No, it wasn't." April shook her head, lips pressing into a thin line. Now wasn't the time for me to continue staring at them and I had to remind myself of that much. "You uh, you're better than I would have given you credit for. You seemed very comfortable on the other side of the camera."

"Then I guess I am a good actor," I laughed. "Because I hate being on the other side," I admitted.

"Really?" She questioned, her eyebrows shooting up.

"Yeah." When I was a kid, I had been completely miserable on the other side of it. I had grown out of it some, but not entirely. I hated interviews on camera. There was a reason that most of mine were in print. "Never been a fan of it. Thought it was a rebellious streak for a while, so I guess if it is one, I just never grew out of it." I explained and offered a small shrug of my shoulders.

She looked bemused. "And yet you voluntarily switched what side of it you're on."

"Well, as long as you don't suggest that it's some kind of mid-life crisis." I was two years older than her, I knew that. Not a huge difference but she had a youthful face and demeanor.

"I guess I can hold off on that." She smiled up at me. "I'm going to go get change for the next scene."

Chewing at the inside of my cheek, I can't help but watch her as she walked away. It was easy to understand, meeting her in person, just why she had managed to win out the role of America's sweetheart even if most would have gone for a much younger person – a teenager, maybe. But she was charming and had that kind of energy that just made her seem so easy to talk to and open up around.

I was jealous of that. But my life had also been severely lacking something like that for… well, as long as I could remember. I had never had anyone in my life that I had been able to be completely comfortable and open around. Growing up in my world, it just seemed like it was impossible to ask for.

"Jackson!" When my name is called out, I whipped my head around. "Come here, boy."

My grandfather, of course, was one of those figures that I had never been able to be completely comfortable around. He had a world of expectations and yet it had never been more for me – it had been the opposite. He and the rest of my family had always assumed that I was incapable of going for the same kind of awards and prestige that they had. Low expectations had been placed around me. Maybe it was because I looked much more like the father that I had never really known than the rest of my family. It was hard to say. My family had never been an open one in any way whatsoever.

"Hey," I greeted Harper as I walked up to him. "Is something wrong?" I asked.

"No, not at all," he shook his head. "What do you think? Of Miss Kepner?"

"She seems great," I answered with an approving nod of my head. "She is a really good casting choice."

"Of course," Harper grinned. "Even if there was an audition process, I knew from the moment that she walked in she was exactly who I wanted. She's enamoring, that one, isn't she? I'm sure that any man in the industry would love to be in your shoes right now."

I gave another nod of my head. "I'm sure. There are probably a lot of people who aren't happy with the fact that I have the role." I hadn't had any confrontations about it, but I wasn't oblivious by any means.

"Absolutely." He agreed. "Many men. They all want to work with her and with me."

"So why did you do it? I asked. That was one thing I had never gotten my head around.

"I know what I want to come out of this movie." Another non-answer. I had those throughout my life and today was no different from the rest. "And that means having you on the screen. Shouldn't you be proud of me? A woman leads in a male movie, a colored interest." I cringed at his word choice. I don't know how my mother put up with it for so many years. "It's diverse."

"Well, I think that most people would argue you lose points when the interest in your grandson," I remarked.

"I don't care what they think anyway." Harper brushed it off with a wave of his hand. "I know what I want."

"You always do," I commented.

There was a look in his eyes that I couldn't quite decipher as he looked up at me from the chair that he was seated in. For years, he had been a hard read though some things had gotten easier. At the moment, it wasn't there. I held back the frown on my features and tightened my cheeks, taking in a deep breath through my nose. Something felt off about it. Maybe it was just the fact that it had been years since I had spent any real time around him. It was difficult to place my finger on.

"I enjoy her quite a bit, as do many others," Harper spoke again as he sat up and leaned back, folding his hands together. "Just make sure that you do not screw anything here up. For anyone." That was much more predictable.

"I won't," I remarked shortly. "You don't have to worry about me."

"Good." He waved me off.

Taking a deep breath and letting out the sigh as soon as my back was turned on my grandfather, I walked back in the direction of my trailer so that I could wait in a bit of peace. Most celebrities were much more social than I was, as far as I could tell. I appreciated my time in silence and solitude, away from the pressures of everyone else.

Walking in the direction of mine, I do pass April's larger one. She was standing outside of her trailer and on the phone, speaking in a hushed voice that I wasn't capable of understanding with the distance between the two of us. I glanced at her for a brief few seconds and when she caught my gaze on her, her eyes widened for a moment and she quickly turned away from me so that I couldn't see her mouth moving, muttering something quickly and hanging up the phone. April glanced over her shoulder back at me once more before she opened up the door of her trailer and stepped inside of it, pulling it shut behind her very quickly. The behavior was odd – not what I expected from her. I still didn't know her that well, so maybe that was a part of it. I stared at the door of her trailer for a few seconds before shaking my head and continuing to walk toward mine. Weird.

Once I reached my own trailer, I stepped inside. Deluca had disappeared somewhere and it was empty, to my fortune. Grabbing my phone off the dresser, I sat down on the couch and sank into it, shutting my eyes and tilting my head back.

There was a text there, apparently from April, letting me know that this was my number and I could text her if she needed anything. I wondered how she had gotten mine but there were plenty of people on this set who she could have asked for it. That was nice – reaching out. It was a little more welcoming than she had been to me the first time that we had met. I appreciated that.

We would be here in Los Angeles, then in New York for a little bit of time, and then back in Los Angeles again. It would be nice to get to spend a week or two in New York. I was hoping to be able to stretch out my time there. It was my favorite city in the world by far, everything that I loved in one place. That was the place where I had opened up.

The time between takes passes quickly, for better or worse. It's not long before I have another scene to shoot.

Although she was still just as charming now as she had been before, it was a little easier to not be quite so distracted by who she was working together the second time around. Maybe I would adjust and this was a sign of that. But it was still so easy to keep my eyes on her and ignore everything else that was going on around us, to feel comfortable on the other side of the camera when I was on this side of it with her. She was like an anchor, keeping me down and steady, not allowing my insecurities to get the best of me. I liked that. She was addictive.

"Places!" "Picture is up!" "Marker!" "Action!" "Cut!"

Everything comes out with each take of the scene and they all seem to flow together seamlessly. Every take is incredibly similar. I understood why multiple takes were necessary but with her, it almost felt like they weren't.

"That's a wrap on that scene," Meredith announced loudly once it was all taken care of.

"That was good," I commented, looking at April.

"Yes, yes it was." Meredith interrupted. "We've got one more scene for you to shoot, Miss Kepner. It shouldn't take long to change sets but we'll need you in hair and makeup as soon as possible." Essentially, she was shooing me away.

"Of course, I know," she replied with a nod of her head. "I'm on it." She began to walk away.

"Hey, just a second." I placed my hand on her upper arm gently.

April turned back to look at me. "What?" She asked.

"There's a food truck just up the street that'll be out there most of the night. Tacos." I spoke quickly. "After you're done shooting today, do you want to grab something to eat? We can get to know each other a little better." I haven't asked someone out in a long time. It almost felt like uncharted territory. "It might be good, you know, for our characters and chemistry." Just in case it was too forward for her. I didn't mind either way.

"Oh," she blinked in surprise. "Sure, yeah. That would be great. I uh, you got my text earlier, right? I can just send you another one whenever we're done and I'm out of my clothes."

"Yeah, I did." I nodded. "Sounds good. I'll see you in a bit."

That felt successful.

Heading back to my trailer again, this time my first instinct isn't to go for my phone and sit on the couch. My vape pen was kept in the drawer of a dresser, out of sight for politeness more than anything. Most people in the industry did drugs of some sort – it wasn't something to worry about in California. Not with weed, at least. I tried to keep private about my usage just to avoid scrutiny and the fact that I was well aware my family would not approve of it. They would approve even less of the fact that it was weed in there instead of some nicotine product.

Pressing down on the button and inhaling for a long three seconds, I sighed out the smoke and watched it dissipate in front of my face. It doesn't have the same pungent smell that a regular joint does, which is something that I appreciate. I enjoyed smoking it but that didn't mean that I liked the smell of it.

Spotify began to play from my phone and I scrolled through the news, letting the weed keep me from getting too worked up about any of the headlines that come out. It's not personal ones that bother me, or stuff in this particular industry necessarily – there was enough going on in the rest of the world that it was senseless to get worked up or upset over something personal. Politics were a constant state of madness in 2018.

The sudden notification of another text from April is a welcome distraction.  
 _  
[Received] Hey! Done for the day. Meet outside my trailer in ten?_

_[Sent] Sure. See you soon._  
  
I waited about five minutes before I put on my jacket and tucked my vape pen into the pocket along with my wallet. I didn't know if it was her kind of thing – it was hard to tell if her being uptight was something on the surface level or if it ran deeper, but I might as well keep it around.

Standing outside of her trailer, she doesn't keep me waiting for long. The door opened and I looked up to get an outline of her from the light shining behind her. She had changed into a summer dress with thin straps holding it up. It hugged her nicely and I had to remind myself not to stare or be weird about it. Even in the dark, I could see the scattering of freckles on her arms and upper chest.

"Hey," I smiled up at her as she stepped down.

"Hey." She replied. "Thanks for sticking around."

"'Course," I said easily. "I mean, honestly, I was gonna go to this place either was. It was just a matter of when. No point of hanging around in LA if you can't take advantage of the food trucks."

"They are kind of the best part of this place," April gave a small chuckle. "Which way?"

Motioning for her to follow me, we headed up the block. It's dark out which at least took away from some of the worry about paparazzi. At this time of night, they were usually much more strategic about where they were looking for people instead of lurking around and just trying to get lucky. Clubs were a good spot. Food trucks, for now, were a bit of a safe haven.

"Do you recommend anything?" She asked once we were in line.

"The carne asada taco is really good. All of them are, to be honest, but that one's my favorite. The Texicana fries are really good too." I answered and watched her squint at the menu.

"Those… sound like you'd need a killer workout the next day." April commented.

"Oh, definitely," I laughed and nodded. "But they're one hundred percent worth it."

The line for the food truck moved and quickly and unable to stop myself from breaking the habit, I step forward to pay for both of our tacos, the fries, drinks, and the side of chips and guacamole that she got it. April made a weak attempt to stop me – but we both had more than enough money. It doesn't really matter.

Even though it was a little bit crowded given that it was just past dark out, it doesn't take long for our food to be ready. Once our names – first names only, fortunately, they were good about giving a little bit of privacy given the usual crowd of people that hung around – were called out and we got out food, the two of us headed toward one of the tables meant to stand at so we didn't have to hold all of it at once. I let her dig into the food first so that I could see her reaction to it.

"Oh, my god," she mumbled through a full mouth, a hand coming up to cover hers.

"It's that good, huh?" I couldn't help but let out another laugh before taking a bite out of my own.

"Ugh, yes." April practically moaned once she had swallowed her food. "You know, when I first moved out here, I didn't understand how a food truck could function. I had never seen one before and the concept was completely wild to me. But I swear, you can get some of the best food in the city at them now, without the wait and occasionally ridiculous prices that some restaurants have." She spoke cheerily and easily.

"Oh yeah?" I questioned with my brow raising. "I mean, yeah, it kind of is a weird concept if you're not used to it. That makes sense. These places are pretty much my life source, though.. I can't imagine what I'd be eating without them."

"So I take it you're not much of a cook?" She questioned after another bite.

"Nope," I admitted shamelessly. "Never been good at much outside of the basic staples."

Her eyebrows raised. "And what do you consider the basic staples?"

"Uh," I chuckled, suddenly a little embarrassed. "Breakfast food, pretty much It's good no matter the time of day."

"You're not wrong," April smiled. "Can I try one of your fries?" She asked. I nodded.

Taking another bite out of one of my tacos, I watched her take a heavy fry from my paper container and toss it into her mouth. A few seconds pass before she let out another dramatic groan and was very quickly reaching for another fry to pop into her mouth.

"Told you." I smiled at her.

"Okay, so I can officially trust you when it comes to food." She said once she had chewed and swallowed.

"If nothing else, sure," I huffed out.

"Can I ask you something?" April requested. I nodded my head again while I chewed. "Why'd you take this job?"

For a moment, I wondered if a question like that was as loaded in any other industry as it was in ours – or at least, for this particular movie. There was a bit of surprise that she would ask in the first place and not just assume that it was because I had been asked to by my grandfather. For that, I had to appreciate her candor.

"Honestly?" I took a deep breath before launching into it. "In my family, I'm the pretty one. My eyes and my smile, my body, I mean… you should see me without a shirt on. It's kind of ridiculous. But my family is successful, driven, over-achievers. And they look like it. They don't look like me, which frankly, does have its perks. Except that my family treated me like I was pretty, and not in the way where you throw your kid in front of a camera. They expected nothing from me, ever. They never pushed me, near thought to. So I had to push myself. Hard. I guess, in a way… taking this was getting back at them. Proving that I'm just as capable of the rest of them in any role."

It was easy to tell from the expression on her face that she was surprised by my level of honesty. That's something that was genuinely underappreciated and rarely given in our world. I knew that.

I smiled at her softly. "Now, I think that it's only fair I ask you the same question."

"I guess I earned that." Her gaze dropped but there was still a smile on her features, at least briefly.

"I promise I won't shame you for not having some family drama behind it." I joked, lightening the mood.

"Well, thanks for that," April mused. "Uh, no, no family drama for this. Or any of my roles, really. I got lucky on that front. I just… I wanted to do something big and meaningful and the opportunity just kind of fell across my lap. I looked at the project as a whole and I knew that it was something that I needed to involve myself in. I know that's not a very deep answer. I promise that I'll come up with something better than that by the time that we're having to do press and interviews for the movie." Her shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug and she quickly popped a chip into her mouth. I leaned forward, stealing a chip from her just like she had stolen one of my fries.

It almost felt like there was something more there that she wasn't throwing out there, but maybe I was self-projecting onto her. An iconic role like this, there didn't need to be some kind of big reason or story behind it. We would both have more appropriate answers by the time we were doing press for the movie. Harper would make sure of that.

"You're becoming even more of an icon than you already are," I offered up. "And if you were a man, no one would bother asking why you wanted the role, other than you know, it's James freakin' Bond and every guy wants to have that role at some point."

"Yeah," she replied quickly. "I figure I'm going to take a lot of slack that men in this role haven't before."

"I don't want to say that you signed up for it, but–" Before I could try to find where I was going with that statement, she made sure that I didn't have to.

"But I signed up for it." April shrugged. "I know."

A moment of silence passed between the two of us and we filled it with consuming the rest of the food that we had gotten. I swallowed down the rest of my food and the bottle of Coke. She did the same with her food and water.

"Why don't I walk you back to your car? You're not getting ditched again, are you?" I asked.

"No, definitely not. That's the last time that I try and use that car service." April remarked with a shake of her head. "I drove myself this morning so my car is in the lot. Do you need a ride?"

"I have a car coming," I explained.

"No." She shook her head quickly, waving her hand as we began to walk back in the direction of the studio parking lot. "I owe you a ride so let me give you one. It's no big deal."

"Are you sure?" I questioned. "I don't live particularly close to you."

"I'm sure. That just means that you've already gone out of your way for me once." April pointed out quickly.

Reaching her car, it was a black, mostly modest Audi – a Q3, I think. She unlocked it and I got into the passenger seat once she had opened up the driver's door. The radio turned on immediately as it connected to her phone and began to play Ariana Grande. I watched as she blushed and turned it down quickly with an apology muttered beneath her breath about it. I typed my address into her phone so that it would come up in the GPS for her.

We make a little small talk back and forth about the film and movie making process as she drove to my flat. It really wasn't that long of a drive from the studio itself, it just happened to be in the opposite direction of her place.

"Uh oh…" I muttered as she pulled up, spotting the paparazzi outside of my apartment. "Shit, I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She squinted again as she pulled to a stop against the curb and the cameras were quickly shot in our direction. Even with the doors shut and windows rolled up, we would hear them shouting at the both of us.

"Thank you for the ride, April." I leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "May as well give them something to talk about?"

She blushed and smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jackson."


	3. Chapter 3

**_ APRIL _ **

Filming, predictably, dominates my life. There was time for almost nothing else.

It doesn't matter if I'm stuck in the same scene for fourteen hours a day, over and over again, trying to navigate the camera angles and things being up close in the midst of an action thing. I did have a stunt double but I want dot do as many of the scenes as I was capable of myself. There was no point in going through all of the training and physical fitness if I wasn't capable of pulling as much of it off as possible. Bruises definitely come with all of it.

At the moment, a small pause and change in the schedule were being made while I iced my knee from having taken a harsh landing on it. The bruising would be worse in the next few days but right now, the swelling was certainly at its worse. I had it propped up high and was resting while things moved around. Sitting, it wasn't terrible. Moving around or putting eight on it was the bad part.

Of course, that meant that I was shifting gears completely. Instead of continuing with the action sequence that we had been filming for today, we were going to the lovemaking scene between Richard and Jane. I would be on my back and mostly concealed by Jackson, which meant that I wouldn't have to move around. Now that we had about two weeks of filming and working together, really getting to know one another in the time that we had between the scenes, it wasn't as anxiety-inducing as it would have been before. Having it moved up did spike it up just a little bit. I couldn't lie about that. But something about his presence was rather relaxing and I was hoping that it would have that effect for shooting today. There would be nothing sexy about me looking tense or like I was in pain.

It was a good thing that the press didn't know that it had been moved up. There had already been more than enough speculation about the two of us dating in secret.

Some of that relaxation had come with doing a little Internet stalking. I had pretty much memorized his Wikipedia page – I had no idea that he had a Ph.D. in Educational Psychology. It seemed random on the outside, but it makes sense that there was some depth there.

Jackson really did seem like an outsider compared to the rest of his family and given that I had been a bit of a black sheep in my own, that did make me like him just a little bit more. He wasn't just some spoiled rich kid even if that was how he had grown up. Knowing that he wasn't like the rest of him certainly made being friends with him and everything that I wanted to do with this movie set… well, that became a lot easier, too. I liked him. It was almost strange to be so comfortable around a man like this, something that I hadn't really experienced in years. Maybe not since I had been a little girl just with my father. Easy, innocent days. I missed those greatly.

My phone buzzed, pulling me away from my thoughts. It was Amelia Shepherd.  
 _  
[Received] How are things going?_

_[Sent] Good. I have a meeting with him today. Hoping to get something good._

_[Received] Good luck. Be smart and stay safe xo._

_[Sent] I will._  
  
A few seconds passed as I stared at the simple texts. We rarely texted. Occasionally, we spoke on the phone, but even then it was usually kept rather brief. In person was easier and safer, that was something that we had both agreed on. Keeping subtle was important for now. Scheming could go one of two ways.

"You look like you've been through it." Jackson's phone caught my attention, locking my phone. "What happened?"

"Slipped and landed on my knee. It's okay now." I shrugged. "That's why they want me shooting a scene where you have to do all of the work."

"Fair enough," he murmured. "Are you comfortable? With this and… that?"

"The sex scene?" I questioned, raising my brow. He nodded. "It's your first sex scene in your first big movie. You have to do all the work. Shouldn't I be asking you that?" I suggested.

Jackson chuckled. "Yeah, maybe you're right. But I'm fine. What about you?"

"It'll be fine," I chewed at the inside of my cheek. I'd have underwear on and pasties for my nipples – I knew they would show as much as they could without being too much, curves and peaks, but not the real deal. Honestly, it wasn't the cameras that worried me about it. But I would keep quiet. I liked him and trusted him, but I don't have to let out my every thought.

"Are you sure?" His brows were furrowed as he looked down at me.

"Of course." I nodded quickly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You look stressed." He observed. I tried to brush it off with a small wave of my hand. "Just seems like you need to relax a little or something. You've been working a ton lately. Maybe you should have a spa day, get a massage or something." He suggested innocently.

"Don't like massages," I murmured. "The idea of a rubdown from some stranger is creepy. I'm picky about who touches me."

"Well, that's fair." Jackson glanced away from me as he spoke and I reported my gaze down to my lap. "If you want, before or after, I can give you something to smoke that'll at least take the edge off. Pretty sure that most of the people around here are relying on that kind of thing to get through the day." That wouldn't have been a surprise. Pretty much everyone had a coping mechanism of some point to deal with the work that we did.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Maybe after." I don't want to sound too uptight, but truthfully, I've never smoked marijuana. I've never done any kind of illegal drug before. "I want to make sure that I'm sharp right now." I offered as an explanation.

"That's fine," he nodded his head, glancing around briefly. "I uh, I'm gonna go to wardrobe. Not that there's exactly much to put on beyond a robe."

"Enjoy your cock sock," I remarked, letting out a slight snort. I heard him laugh as he walked away.

Relaxing would be important for getting through this scene, I knew that. I'd had some steamy scenes in the past, stripping down, but not full on sex, nothing with thrusting like this would have. The set would be cleared down to essential personnel for that. We'd have to go over the choreography with Harper, Meredith, and a couple of other essentials watching and actually filming it. This was probably the only scene in the movie where I was grateful to have the brunt of the work resting on someone else.

Moments like this, though, I was a little glad that I had strayed away from some of my younger beliefs. That I would wait until marriage, that it would be with someone special. That had been thrown away when I was nineteen. Maybe I didn't mess around with Tinder, but I left my days of being a prude in the past.

A timer goes off on my phone and I take the ice pack off of my knee. I bend it in the compression wrap – it's not so bad even if keeping ice on it has it feeling a little stiff. Nothing that I can't handle.

Slowly moving, each foot hits the floor and I push myself onto my feet, switching my weight between legs to see how it felt. It's not terrible. Irritating, certainly, but if I could push it out of the forefront of my mind then I would probably be able to figure it even if I did have a slight limp. The choreography for the scene had taken care of that. Jackson would lift me and carry me to bed. For now, it's not my focus. Unlocking my phone, I turned on the voice recorder and tuck it into my pocket before I walk over to Harper Avery.

"You should not be on your feet right now," was the first thing that he said to me.

"I know," I commented, tightening the fluffy robe around me. "I was hoping we could talk privately."

"Of course," Harper agreed. "Come, let's go to my office."

Following him back to his private office, I adjusted my phone and made sure that the bottom of it was sticking out of my pocket. He was old, he probably wouldn't think twice about it. People my age were obsessed with their phones, after all.

"Nerves about the scene?" He suggested once the door was shut down. "Sit, please."

"I suppose," I murmured as I sat down carefully.

"Don't be." His eyes stayed on me as he leaned back against the desk, on the same side of it as I was. "You're beautiful. Sexy. I've put a lot of thought into this scene," Harper chuckled. "I'm jealous of my grandson. Too bad it's only simulated and not the real thing." The tenure of acting experience is the only thing that kept me from cringing visibly. "I hope you're not insecure about your body. Why don't you take off your robe?"

"Oh," I breathed out in surprise. "No, I rather keep it on. I only have pasties on."

"Well, it's just the two of us." He reached forward, placing his hand on my shoulder. "And it's nothing I won't be seeing soon. Come on, just a little look. You know, arousal is important for scenes like this." He seemed completely unashamed of anything that he was saying, Machiavellian through and through.

As if I could ever be aroused by him. "I've heard that before, yes."

"Now might be a good time for that," he suggested. His hand touched my chin and forced it up. "I've done it for some of my actresses before. Just a little favor."

I wanted to throw up in my mouth. "No, I don't want that," I stated as clearly as possible.

"Sure you do. They always do." He countered.

"No, I don't think that's a good idea." I disagreed.

"Take off your robe. You've got pretty little lips, it would be a shame not to use them."

Before things could go any further, there was a knock on the door and I let out a breath of relief as he stepped toward it, tightening my robe around me and sitting up straighter. It was Meredith on the other side, letting him know that she needed Jackson and myself on the set so we could go through the choreography for the scene before filming. Thank God for her. I hadn't planned this out well enough to know where I was supposed to go from there.

"Thank you, Mer," I spoke up as I stood up.

"We can continue this discussion later, April," Harper said, patting my ass as I walked by.

"Don't worry. It's not necessary." I shot back without looking at him.

Squeezing my eyes shut as I hobbled away as quickly as I could, I let out the breath I was holding onto. An unfortunate passing intern gets barked at for water because I was almost positive it was the only thing that would actually keep me from upheaving my stomach.

My heart was pounding inside my chest so hard that I could feel it, hear the sound of my own heartbeat from the blood thrumming. When a cold bottle of water is thrust into my hands, I quickly unscrew the cap and drain half of it without pause for oxygen. I probably looked crazy. Reaching into my pocket, I quickly pulled out my phone and hit stop on the recording. I would have to trim it down a little, but that was fine. I had everything that I needed. It was more than I thought I would have gotten in the first place, to be honest. It wasn't that I had doubted Amelia, it couldn't have been further from that. I just hadn't thought that he would be so crude and direct without any other build up. He was even worse than that I had thought.

But that's how men like Harper Avery were. They thought they were entitled to the world.

I would make sure he knew that was no longer the case. No matter what.

Taking a slower sip from the bottle of water again, I tried to force my heart rate to slow down again. Even if looking flushed would be a good thing, sure, I don't want to make it obvious to anyone else here that it was anything more than getting into the scene and character. Right now, it felt like there was a giant target on my back, screaming that I was a mess and something had happened. It doesn't help that there really were so many people paying attention to me.

"Hey, are you okay?" I jumped and reflexively winced upon the sudden question from Jackson.

"Yeah." The lie came out easily.

"Are you sure? You don't look it." He followed up.

"Gee, thanks." I snapped at him, folding my arms in front of my ribs defensively. I don't mean to suddenly sound like such a bitch, especially not when we have an intimate scene to do together, but I feel momentarily incapable of controlling my tongue.

"Sorry, that's not what I meant," Jackson apologized quickly. "I just want to make sure you're okay." He really was being a nice guy and I was being an uptight bitch.

"No, I'm sorry," I breathed out after a moment. "I guess I am nervous about it after all."

He reached out for me and placed his hand on my shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. "You'll do fine. You always do. We are going to have to start rehearsing the choreography soon, though." Which meant his grandfather's presence.

"Yeah, I know," I murmured. "I'll shake it off."

"Do you want to head over there? Might as well get you off of your knee." He suggested and offered me his arm.

"Okay," I mumbled the agreement and took his arm, leaning into him. Jackson helped me hobble over to the set which was already mostly set up, bed and covers in place. He was talking but I struggled to focus on what he was talking about – whether it was real life or the scene that we were working on, the relationship between the characters. I nearly felt as if I had been through a trauma and was left stuck in a daze now. Neither one of us took off our robes just for the sake of choreography, something which relaxed me a little more. The thought of being close to naked in front of him doesn't bother me. Sure, he looked like a modern Adonis, but I knew that men found me attractive. It's the other Avery in the room that made me nervous.

But I would have to keep on the face for just a little bit longer. I thought that I had all of what I needed in that recording, even if it was only audio. That and a recount of what had happened, along with the story from who had told me about him in the first place… that should have been more than enough. The stories of others like him in the industry, Weinstein and Spacey and Cosby, he found end up another scarred name. There was also a good chance that once I came forward, other women would, too. Sometimes that was all that it took, being the first Domino. Even if the backlash would undoubtedly be abhorrent.

Laying down on my back, a few people come over and adjust everything around us. The scene was mostly set aside from the lighting it seemed like and a few other things to make the bedroom more realistic. A pillow was placed over my crotch, giving a little barrier between Jackson and me.

There was always a ridiculous amount of little fixes here and there, moving my hair out of the way, mostly. Part of that is maintained by Jackson's hand, half cupping my face and extending to the base of my neck.

Kissing Jackson, though, that doesn't feel like acting.

Maybe there had been a few small flutters here and there when he had kissed my cheek or whenever he would casually take my hand or put his arm around me. Most of the time, I was limited about who I let touch me when there weren't cameras rolling. Personal space was too important to me given how little of my life was actually private. But I didn't feel the same stiffness with him that I did with most people. Being around him felt natural. Even knowing what I knew about his grandfather, it still… there felt like there was something there between the two of us that went beyond that was scripted for us as actors.

Making out with him is so easy and admittedly, I was a little too comfortable with having him kiss my neck and chest, a hand covering my breasts to conceal and block the camera angle from seeing the pasties on either of them. There was still sheer embarrassment from having a group of people watching us, but the flush makes it look more natural, as does the shine they add to both of us with light sprays of rose water.

"Are you still comfortable?" He asked. His hands were folded over my belly button, chin resting upon them.

"Yeah," I breathed out, glancing over at Harper. "I just want this to be done."

"It shouldn't take too long." Jackson smiled up at me lightly.

"Men never do, right?" I offered with a teasing smile, shooting him a wink.

"Why don't we get started, huh?" Harper was looking at me as he spoke with a nasty smirk that made me nauseous. Any comfort I had found with Jackson was quickly gone. The discomfort and nausea were right there again, threatening to make the worst of me.

If it was just Jackson kissing me, I would have been fine.

If it was silent, I would have been fine.

Hell, even if there was some annoying music playing, I would have been fine.

But when the praise began to came from Harper as he directed the scene and threw out little words that were no doubt meant to be encouraging, I can't take it. It's too much for me not to unravel.

My heart beat faster in my chest and I had no doubt in my mind that I was as red as could be, though it no longer had anything to do with the way that Jackson was touching me. Everything was closing in on me and I was choking on the air around me. He was barely in my peripherals any more, practically blind with the rage that began to pound through me. But I can tell that he sensed something was wrong, he paused what he was doing to look up at me instead of continuing with the scene. There's clear irritation from Harper when he yelled cut and began to speak, but I couldn't hear that he was saying. It was a muffled blur in the background and I have no interest, or energy left, to attempt to decipher what was going on.

"I can't do this." I blurted out.

"April, are you–" Jackson tried to begin but I slithered out from underneath him quickly.

"April!" Harper shouted. "What are you doing?" He questioned.

Even if I wanted to give some kind of answer or smart ass remark, I can't. I'm seconds away from hyperventilating and there's an inhaler in my trailer that's screaming my name, lungs begging for some kind of release from the current hellhole that I had found myself trapped inside of. I nearly hurt myself again in my haste to get there, sore knee be damned.

I barely make it in time, grabbing my inhaler and quickly pressing down. My dependence on this is something I hate, even if it's a physical ailment that needs treating. I hadn't developed asthma until I had developed anxiety. Anxiety attacks were what guided me to this, almost every damn time. I could run and work out without having to worry almost every single time. But trying to get through an intense bout of anxiety without it? I may as well have been a goner. Even with it, for elongated minutes, I felt like a goner.

Deep breathes, belly expanding and restricting. It's easier after the inhaler is used.

Soon, I would have to figure out an explanation for what just happened. One that didn't involve what had happened even though that would come out, but I needed something immediate. I could call it an anxiety attack. Even if the press didn't talk about it, it was no secret that I pretty much didn't get through anything without my Lexapro. Sure, meditation helped, and over the years I had tried to go off of it a few times. My body and brain had formed a dependence on it. I don't mind it, really. It gets me through the day and that's what I needed. But anxiety wasn't to blame this time, even if I could throw it under the bus.

There was a knock on my trailer door. I don't answer but it doesn't give me a break.

"April?" To my surprise, it was neither Jackson nor Harper. It was my manager.

Sighing to myself, I set the inhaler down on my dresser trailer and hauled myself off of the couch, opening up the door to see Owen standing on the other side of it. I don't bother to smile, leaving it open for him as I sat back down on the couch with my legs stretched out.

"So, Harper told me that you ran out of filming the sex scene." He started slowly. "You know that's a part of the contract. We had it in there so we could make sure that you would be comfortable with it."

"I know. And it's not the scene itself. That's… fine." I wasn't sure how to explain it. He wasn't in on it. Owen had helped me get the role, but he had just assumed that I wanted it for ambitious reasons.

His eyebrows raised as he stared down at me, waiting for me to continue.

"It's not that. You know it's not." Even if I didn't want a full frontal, I didn't care about nudity.

"So what it is? You know that you can't hide in here forever," Owen reminded me.

"I can't tell you. Not yet." My lips pressed in a thin line and I let out a sigh through my nose. He would be one of the first people I told, but this was about more than me. Had it been just about me, then sure, I could have trusted him enough for it. I knew that he was a good guy and he had been to me for years. "But I will once I can."

"Okay…" His brows furrowed as he looked down at me skeptically. "What are we going to do about the right here and right now, though? Going forward?" He asked.

"I'm not sure," I admitted, chewing at the inside of my cheek for a moment as I let my head spin around. The contract was there and I couldn't just back out of it because it had all happened sooner than I had been prepared for. I was going to have to do it at one point or another, or at least, keep by the word that I was. "What about just postponing it? They only wanted to do it today because I hurt my knee and it'd be an easier scene for me to film. Can we just push it off toward the last week of filming?"

"We can do that," Owen answered with a quick nod of his head. "That's not a problem. Why don't we get you the day off tomorrow, too, so you don't have to worry about your knee?" I was going to sound like a diva, I could tell already. I was glad I had him to handle this for me. He was the closest thing that I had here to a parental figure in Hollywood. "And you're comfortable with Jackson Avery, right? I know the nepotism thing had you worried at first but I've met him a few times and he seems like a genuinely good guy. He's not like the rest of his family.

"Thank you." I murmured sincerely and offered him a tightlipped smile. I knew Jackson was different.

"You know that if there's anything I can do for you, I will," he started slowly and sat down for a moment at the opposite end of my couch. "I'm not just your manager, okay? I'm here for whatever you need. It doesn't have to be career-related." Owen truly had always treated me like a little sister.

Twiddling my thumbs together, I gave a small nod of my head. "I know that," I murmured. "And I swear, I'll tell you when I'm ready, but right now it's about more than me. That's the only reason I can't."

"Well, I trust you. You know that." But it was still a kind reminder. "I'll go talk to Harper, but let me know if there's anything else you need from me, okay?" Owen said.

"Yeah, okay," I confirmed. "Thank you, again."

The trailer door shut behind him and I let out a breath shutting my eyes for a moment and trying to focus on my body. my knee was still throbbing. Stretching and rolling out my ankle, bending and straightening my knee, it doesn't make a difference. It just needed a day or two of rest.

Silence inside of my trailer felt good and I took a long moment just to embrace it for what it was. Set was never quiet between people running around and constant questions being thrown my way, dragged around for hair and wardrobe even though I enjoyed Jo and Izzie, who was in charge of my wardrobe, was always nice and cheery in the morning. I wasn't sure how she managed to have so much energy given that I never saw her with coffee or energy drinks like the rest of us. For a moment, I could have appreciated some of that energy. I'm torn between not wanting to be alone and the desperate knowledge that I can't risk anyone finding out what I've been up to. But being alone right now stung just a little. I had been here before.

Work was something that had always been able to get me through anything that I had dealt with in my life. The ability to take my energy and focus into anything other than my own head was something that I was almost scarily good at. Grabbing my MacBook Air out of my bag, I plugged my phone into it and sent the audio recording from my conversation with Harper onto it. It took a moment for things to sync up.

Propping up my leg and keeping it positioned nice and high, I stretched out momentarily, reaching to touch my toes easily. I can feel it in the back of my thigh. It felt at least a little bit better to stretch out. The swelling wasn't as bad as it had been after, but I knew the bruising would get worse.

iTunes opened up and I pressed play on it, renaming the title with his name and today's date. I turned up the volume and let the interaction play again. There's some shuffling around from the walk I had taken, the innocent little ploy to get him alone and see if the monster in him would come out. It had. There was no doubt about that. Replaying the words made me nauseous again, a heaviness in my stomach that I couldn't get rid of. Any woman who had ever been in a position remotely like this one would have felt the exact same way. Or anyone with a conscious, really, I hoped. It was disgusting.

_Sure you do. They always do._

Of all the damning things on the tape and disgusting things that he could have said, there was something especially sickening about that line. Maybe it was because I knew too well how far from the truth it really was. I hadn't had to be in the industry to learn that lesson.

"You're okay," I spoke out loud, reminding myself.

Opening up my email, I quickly typed in Amelia's email address and typed in one word. Audio. She would know exactly what it was for. I dragged over the file and gave it a minute to load before I hit send and heard the signature little swish. Even though it was just an email between the two of us, there was something nerve-racking about putting it out there.

Picking up my phone, I made sure that she saw it with a quick text, staring at my phone for a few long seconds as I waited for the little bubble to indicate that she was typing back. I hold my breath until it appeared. Moments later came the text that I was hoping for.  
 __  
[Received] APRIL!  
[Received] I can't believe you did that but it's perfect.

_[Sent] It was worth it, I promise._

_[Received] Things aren't going to be too bad for you going forward, are they?_

_[Sent] My manager and I will figure it out. He doesn't know what's happening, but he knows that something's up. I promise I'm still safe. What happened to you won't happen again. Not because of him._

_[Received] Thank you so much. I can't even begin to express what this means to me._

_[Sent] I want to keep my word to you. I'll do everything that I can.  
_  
I sincerely hoped that was a promise that I would be able to keep.

Pressing play on the recording again and forcing myself to listen to the nasal voice again, attempting to be husky with some of the words that came from him no doubt though it failed miserably, I tried to control the wobbly feeling that it filled me with. As much as I don't want to replay the incident in my head, it's exactly what happened. That look in his eyes and the way that I had shuddered internally upon even a single unwanted touch from him. I didn't know how Amelia had managed to go through what she had when she had worked with him. One day, one incident, that was all that it took for me. Maybe my background made me more sensitive to the subject area, or maybe my tolerance for it just wasn't as high. She had told me that she had drunk her way through most of it. Suddenly, that made a lot more sense.  
 __  
Take off your robe. You've got pretty little lips, it would be a shame not to use them.  
  
Tears swell in my eyes as the line is repeated in the recording and I don't bother lifting up a hand to try and wipe them away. It was a good thing that Meredith had come in when she did. I wasn't sure what would have happened otherwise. I wanted proof, but not that much.

"What the fuck is that?" Jackson's suddenly obtrusive question nearly scared the life out of me and I flinched, laptop clattering against the table top.

"Jackson…" I started with wide eyes, mouth dry. It was obvious yet I had no explanation.

His gaze wasn't on me, instead, looking past my shoulder at my laptop with the audio file playing. There were a few seconds of shuffling around before the file started again, more shuffling and the small conversation where I had lured him into his office before he heard all of the truth of his grandfather's disgusting habits play. There was no point in turning around to trying to stop it. In a way, he deserved to know. Everyone would know the truth sooner or later.

Once it had played out for him to hear every single word, I reached behind me and hit the stop button, not allowing it to go through again. The first time had been painful enough and listening to it multiple times was like torture.

"What… what the hell is going on?" Jackson asked again angrily.

"Fuck." I blurted out, nothing else inside of me.


	4. Chapter 4

**_ JACKSON _ **

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I yelled out.

Attention is immediately garnered from the people around us as my voice boomed out. There's a set full of people watching our every move on a normal moment and acting out like this, that only gathered even more attention from those around us.

April stared up at me with a fierce defiance in her eyes, anger swimming inside of those hazel hues that were normally so soft – yet they still managed to be just as expressive as ever. She was almost hilariously small looking up at me though the way that she carried herself, her size did nothing to diminish that fiery spark that she had inside of her. She looked as if she was ready to go off like all it would take was someone pressing the wrong (or right) button inside of her for her to explode completely and make anyone regret so much as looking at her the wrong way. All it would take was the right words.

Even with the rage in her eyes as she looked up at me, it doesn't cause me to back off in the slightest. My mind was already set and if there was anything that I had been good at in my life, it was being stubborn. That was something that no one that knew me could doubt. I had deviated from my family, from their low expectations, from everything that everyone had ever put on me. This was just doing that, again.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She snapped right back at me, hand waving out wildly and no doubt getting even more attention on both of us. "God, you're a pig!"

"And you're a damn bitch!" I replied back. "God, you're such a fucking diva. I don't know how you've made it this far because I don't know how anyone could stand working with you."

"At least I've had a career! You just call your grandfather and beg!" April countered.

"Well, at least I'm a fuckin' decent person." I rolled my eyes at her, crossing my arms.

To my surprise, she shoved me backward, catching me off guard just enough that I take two steps stumbling backward. "Seriously? You're going to start acting like a child?" I scoffed out. "Of course you would. God, anyone who met you would think that you're the one who grew up and turned into a goddamn brat from having money. You don't even have an excuse, you're just a shitty person." Phone cameras were pointed at us by now.

"What, too scared to hit a girl?" She mocked me. "You're stuck so damn high on your stupid high horse and you don't have a clue how the actual world works. You shouldn't even be here in the first place. Run away and let your family money take care of you like always." She sneered.

"I'm not going to hit you." I scoffed. "You need to get your act together. I thought acting is what you were supposed to be good at in the first place."

"You're unbelievable!"

"I can't work with you," I announced and threw my hands up. "I can't and I won't."

Finally, someone interrupted, apparently, the words had become enough for the rest of them.

"Hey, hey, hold up," Meredith jogged over to try and stop the two of us, pulling a headset off of her ears and forcing it around her neck. "What the hell is going on here? No one is going anywhere." Her hands went to her hips as she looked between the two of us.

"Well, I can't work with her," I repeated my words, shaking my head. "I can't and I won't."

"He's a complete ass," April interjected before I could say anything further. "He's an obnoxious, privileged ass and I don't want to be here as long as he's here, either. I don't care who his grandfather is. I don't care if he's the damn King of England. I am not going to be treated the way that I've been treated on this set, not by him or by anyone else." Her arms crossed defensively and she straightened her spine as if she were trying to size the both of us up. In any other situation and it might have actually been a little funny to watch her do that.

"Why don't we try and work this out?" Meredith looked between the two of us, brows high and wrinkling her forehead, aging her another few years undoubtedly. "We have a movie to film and we can't afford this right now. You two need to sort it out so we can keep going."

"No." I refused with a shake of my head. "I'm not going to do this. Hell no."

Even if I had been the one trying to call her a diva, there was no way that this wasn't going to come back around on me and have it sound like I was the bad guy in this situation. Honestly, that worked fine for me. I didn't care what I sounded like in this situation. I was already set in my mind with what I was going and there was nothing that was capable of changing it right now. Not Meredith, not Harper, not anyone higher up at the studio. I didn't care who had to get involved to try and mollify the fight occurring between us. This was happening right here and right now. There was nothing to slow it down or stop it.

"You're going to both have to figure out a way to do this." Meredith countered. "Now."

"Nope." I popped the syllable with a shake of my head as if all of this was nonchalant and I was barely willing to give her the time of day. I had to wonder if she knew the truth, my family's worst secret. She'd been working with my grandfather for a while. It was possible. "I'm walking out."

"You can't do that!" Meredith yelled, grabbing my arm and I quickly yanked it away. "You have a contract to follow."

"Does it look like I give a damn?" I practically laughed in her face, looking between her and April.

"Let him go. We all deserve better than working with him," April shook her head.

"Fuck all of you," I swore.

Turning my back on them despite the protests that quickly followed from Meredith as she tried to follow after me, I stormed out of the set, heading back to my trailer. I could hear her bang on my door a few times and I ignore it as I gather up my things, pulling out my car keys. Eventually, the knocking does die down and I know that she's undoubtedly gone to talk to my grandfather about what was happening. He would want to talk to me himself, try to pull whatever strings that he thought he had left, but they were all gone as far as I was concerned.

At the end of the day, it was announced the filming for Terminal would be on hiatus until further notice. No explanation was given.

The press went wild with speculation – the video of April and I arguing leaking almost immediately after the announcement was made. Instead of speculation about the two of us dating in secret, or something of the nature given that we had been spotted outside of work together plenty of times since filming had started in the first place, it quickly turned to the opposite direction. They assumed that it was a breakup that had led to this, that neither one of us was now capable of keeping things professional since we had broken up. Honestly, all of it was pretty easy to tune out. I had been doing that for most of my life and this was no different.

__________________________________________________________________________________

_**THREE DAYS BEFORE THE FIGHT** _

Disgust ruined inside of me, gnawing away at the inside of my stomach as I listened to the recording of my grandfather's words and they replayed over and over again. It was easy to recognize his voice though I would have never predicted such a thing to come out of his mouth under unwarranted and harassing circumstances. Just as it was easy to recognize April's timid voice on the other end. I couldn't believe that he would do something like that to her. She was good and kind, deserving better than of that kind of repugnant behavior although it, unfortunately, was far too common in our world. Yet I had never thought that something like that would be so close to home. I knew that he wasn't a good man by quite a few standards, yet I had never realized that he was a literal predator.

A wave of pure rage came next, unlike anything that I had ever felt before. I would have liked to think that I would have had this same reaction if it was anyone showing me this recording of my grandfather but truthfully, there was something different about her – I felt more protective of her than I had most people that I encountered. We were around each other more. She meant something to me, even if I wasn't sure what. That just made what he had done to her all the more enraging. This was personal.

Yet despite the clear, distinct emotions currently tearing through me with a violence unlike any other, I couldn't find my voice. I wanted to scream and curse. A part of me wanted to storm out of there and do nothing more than give him a damn piece of my mind. Usually, I can be calm in the face of chaos. But not this time.

Though I had never been close with anyone in my family, emotionally speaking, Harper had always been a figure of resilience. He was powerful and had worked for that power. He had gotten himself into a huge name and made sure that his succeeding generations would never have to worry about money. He had been a figure that I had respected and admired for my entire life. Hundreds of thousands, millions of people knew his name, and for a reason. But this proved one thing that I had always known in the back of my mind, an itching thought, though I had never wanted to confront it quite so directly.

I didn't know him and I never had.

Running my hand over my face, I stared down at her with utter disbelief. There's still a cup of tea in my hand. After the meltdown she'd had earlier, I had wanted to do something nice, maybe figure out what was going on and seeing if it was me that made her uncomfortable. Maybe it was. Or maybe it was just my last name. I set it down on the dresser, shaking my head.

"When is that from?" There's a lot of other questions I could have asked. What was pointless – anyone with two ears could figure out exactly what it was, who it was. I hated how obvious it was.

"Today," she whispered feebly.

My hands curled into tight fists. Even though it was obvious from the words that were said on the tape, talking about the sex scene, confirmation caused me to boil. How had she been able to carry through and nearly film that damn scene with him standing there?

"Fucking hell…" I swore. "I can't fucking believe… he's never…" The words focusing on myself come out. It's not until I see the fear in her eyes as she stared up at me that I backtrack and remember that this wasn't about me. I hadn't been the one that he was coercing for sexual favors. I'd just had piss poor timing about interrupting her. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize for him," April replied quickly.

"No– it's not that. I can't." I shook my head. "I'm just getting pissed about the wrong thing. But… you recorded it. Is that… is that not the first time that he's… done that to you?" Any certainty was gone.

"No." Another fast answer and I breathed out in relief. "Not to me. A friend – she told me…"

"When?" I asked, frowning.

"Before I took the role." My eyes widened as I stared down at her. She had known and still taken this role. That didn't make any sense. "That's why I… that's why I took it. To get some kind of proof, to make sure that it couldn't happen to anyone else who took the role. I couldn't let that happen to someone else. I just couldn't." She refused to look up at me, staring down at her hands and shaking her head as she spoke. "I couldn't." She repeated.

Kneeling down slowly, I gave a small nod of my head. "That's okay. You… you did a really, really brave thing. Something that most people would have never even considered doing. Hell, people don't even like to believe women these days."

"What about you?" April asked and finally met my gaze. "What do you believe?"

I took a deep breath. "I can't not believe you. Not after hearing that. And even if I hadn't… I don't know. It might be harder, but you don't strike me as the type to lie. It's hard enough to come forward with the truth during this kind of thing. You would tell the truth." Something told me that.

"Thank you." Though her hand came up to cover her mouth, it doesn't muffle the sob that escaped. "Thank you," she repeated.

"Don't thank me for just doing the right thing." I shifted toward her and paused. "Is this okay?" My hand rested on her leg and I waited for her to nod before coming closer to her, wrapping both of my arms around her and pulling her in against my chest. It's a little awkward with her legs extended like that but she curled into me and I held her, letting her cry against me and stroking her hair gently. This was the absolute least that I could do for her.

I hold her as long as she needed me to, and I make her one promise.

"I'm going to help you."

It's hard to say how long the two of us sit there with my arms wrapped around her, holding her against my chest. The sound of her crying eventually becomes quiet but I can still feel the moisture against my chest from the tears that she had let out, staining the front of my shirt. Her mascara had begun to run down her cheeks and form little dark rivers against the freckles of her cheeks. I'd never held someone when they had cried like this. Usually, crying made me uncomfortable. Rarely was I close and comfortable enough with someone that I could go through with something like this. It's a different feeling to hold her just like this. I don't want her to have to be going through this, but I was glad that I could be here for her.

Everything was silent around the set by the time the two of us exited her trailer. I made sure that she had her phone and her laptop and I grabbed one of the makeup removing wipes from her dresser, cleaning off her face to try and get rid of the fact that she had been crying, though there's little to do about the redness in her eyes.

No one disturbed the two of us as we headed toward my car. I was sure that hers was somewhere in the parking lot again but I didn't want her to have to drive herself when she was this upset and risk her being distracted behind the wheel. Reaching my car, I open up the passenger seat and make sure that she gets into it and buckled up before getting around into the driver's seat and turning the car on. For a moment, we just sit there in silence, processing.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my vape pen and handed it over to her. "You should try it."

"What is it?" April asked as she took it from me, examining it in the low light.

"Weed," I answered with a slight shrug. "It helps take the edge off. It's a good strain, I promise."

"Oh." She breathed out. "I've uh, I've never…"

"You don't have to if you don't want to. It's just what helps me," I murmured. "No pressure. If you do, just press down on the button and inhale for two or three seconds. It'll burn a bit the first time. Then breathe out."

Shifting the car into drive, I left my foot on the break to not disturb her. She stared at it for a few seconds longer before putting it in her mouth and inhaled for a short two seconds. The smoke that she breathed out was thin and I offered her a small smile. She blinked quickly a few times. Whatever it was, it must not have been what she expected from it. Hopefully, that was a good thing.

"Huh," she murmured.

"Huh?" I echoed with a raise of my brow, taking it back from her and putting it in the cupholder for now. I pulled out of the parking spot and began to drive in the direction of her house. "Try to relax." One hand on the wheel, my other was on top of hers.

It was a short drive to the house. I knew people were probably wondering where I was, but filming was done for the day thanks to her agent. I wondered if he knew the full truth but now didn't feel like the right time to ask. There were plenty of questions and I didn't want to leave her too overwhelmed from everything that she was dealing with right now. By the time that we pulled up to her house, the lights were off and there was no sign of paparazzi. I was glad for that. Enough stress was on her shoulders.

I helped her inside, making sure that she got all of her items into the house and plugged into the charging ports. She took off her shoes and sat down on the couch, staring blindly at the fireplace and turned off television screen in front of her. She had a beautiful home – very clean and modern. Extremely clean. I wondered if she maintained it herself.

"Are you okay?" I asked, folding my hands and looking down at her.

"Yeah. I've just… I don't know. Even though nothing really happened, my head is still spinning." She didn't look at me as she spoke, her knees pulled up against her chest.

"Just because the worst didn't happen, doesn't mean nothing happened." I sat down next to her on the couch. "You're allowed to feel something, you know? What he did… I'm disgusted. I hate that I'm related to him. And I promise I'm going to be with you all the way. I'm not going to let him hurt you again, you or anyone else, okay? I don't want you around him, either. Not at all."

"I can't just disappear from the set," she pointed out, finally looking up at me. I took a deep breath.

"Maybe not disappear." I chewed at the inside of my cheek. "But I've got an idea."

__________________________________________________________________________________

**_PRESENT_ **

My phone buzzed and I ignored it. The second time that it buzzed, I ignored it again.

Turning my phone off, I attempted to block everything else in the world that was going on. It was a difficult task given that most of my life was dependent on things online. It was a good thing that Netflix didn't require looking at any headlines. Getting away from everything else in the world was a good thing and something that I didn't get enough of, that was certain. There's no peace to be found in my head with everything else going on, but at least binge-watching a few episodes of _Luke Cage_ gets my mind in a fictional world more than a real one.

After a couple of hours, I finally turn on my phone again. There were missed calls from both my grandfather and my mother. No surprise there, she would have loved an opportunity like this to try and insert herself in my life. I wondered if she knew the truth. Had this been going on for years? Had it happened to her first? No, that seemed unlikely. She was too loud.

I only set it down for a few minutes before it was ringing again. Should have seen that coming. Picking it up, it's my grandfather's name on the screen. I debate not answering but at some point or another, I was going to have to confront it. I would have to keep my mouth shut about what I really wanted to say – exposing April, and Amelia, would have done more harm than good at this point until the two of them went public with their stories and the proof behind them. There's no love in my heart for him anymore. He might have been blood, but that was it. He had taken our name and used it to exploit women, to harm them. Getting power and doing that with it was despicable, yet somehow typical of old, white men in his generation. I had been a fool to ever think that he could have been different. He had given me little sprinkles of the truth over the years. This was just the cake.

"What do you want?" I snapped as soon as I answered the call.

"You've been ignoring my calls for days!" Harper responded. "You cause a scene and walk out on our set, then you ignore me for days. What the hell do you think you're doing? Who do you think you are?" He questioned me harshly. My hand shook as I held the phone.

"I'm doing what I want. I'm not restricting myself to what you think I should do." That was what I had done my whole life, after all. This was just the best reason I had ever had to.

"I don't care!" He shouted on the other end. "You're going to get your spoiled ass back on that set tomorrow and we're going to resume filming. I won't stand this attitude from you for any longer. You and April will fix whatever shit that you have caused, and you will get back to where you were before. This movie will finish with both of you whether you like it or not."

"You're not in control here. You do not get to dictate what I do, nor what she does." I retorted.

He snorted, loudly. "I don't care what you're saying. Yes, I do, and I will."

"You can't control either one of us. Not anymore." I hung up the phone without another word.

The big fight between April and myself had been a plan, after all.

Getting filming suspended was the only thing that I could think to do. It would give April a reasonable excuse to stay away from Harper without things seeming weird or suspicious. I didn't want to put her in harm's way any more than she had already been in by being around him.

Most of the fight had been scripted too even if a little bit of it had gone too far, but it felt in character for who the two of us were trying to be in that moment – obnoxious, assholes, dramatic actors who had no chance of ever getting along with one another. The shove had been her winging it but it had worked well. She knew how to make people believe what she was saying and doing no matter what it was. My rage at the moment had been real, too, even if it hadn't been directed at her. I'd just taken all of those feelings I had about Harper and knowing what he had done, and projected it into that moment. It had worked well enough.

With my phone already out, I scroll through some of the other messages that I had missed. A few friends checking in – no doubt from the headlines that had plagued, as well as some from my mother. Hers was accompanied by a few screenshots.  
_  
IS THE YOUNGEST AVERY A BUST?_

_MORE DRAMA BEHIND THE SCENES OF TERMINAL THAN ON THE SCRIPT._

_WHO IS THE BIGGER DIVA: APRIL KEPNER OR JACKSON AVERY?_

Part of me hoped that the headlines would focus on me more than her, and it seemed like that was the case from the ones my mother sent me, though I doubted it was entirely true. Media always attacked women harder than they did men, no matter what the circumstances were. I just didn't want her to have to go through too much before she came forward with the recording, because things would only get infinitely worse from there.

Against my better judgment, I sent my mother a quick text and asked her if she wanted to talk now. It was probably the only moment I would offer, and she quickly took advantage of it. Seconds after it says delivered, my phone rang and I picked it up.

"Hi, Mom." I tried not to take my anger out at Harper on her.

"Jackson Zion Avery, what the hell do you think you're doing? Do you want to tank the career? After your grandfather went out of his way to make sure that you could get a good and nice role that would boost your career if you decided you wanted to go down on that road, you just throw all of it away by having some kind of hissy fit with your co-star? Is this what you want your legacy to be? People screamed nepotism and now they're saying not even nepotism is enough to get your career. Is this how you want to tarnish the family name?" Her yelling speech came out quickly. Clearly, she had been thinking a lot about this.

If only I could tell her that I wasn't the one who was ruining the family name.

"I don't expect you to understand." And I didn't. Not till the truth and… even then, it was hard to say. I knew just how protective she was about our name and there was a good chance that she would fight back against April. One more person that I would have to protect her against.

"Oh, you don't?" The sarcasm was clear in her tone. "Well, why don't you try and explain it to me? Because right now, I can't think of a single reason for you to throw away everything like this. You are a lot of things, but I have never taken you to be so ungrateful. I raised you better than this."

"I know who you raised me to be," I breathed out, running my hand over my face. It was hard to talk to her about it because I couldn't get angry in the same way. "And I'm still that person, even if you can't see it right now."

"Well, you're right. I absolutely can't see a hint of that person right now."

"You'll understand sooner or later." I hoped that was the truth. I couldn't guarantee it.

"Oh, will I?" She sassed me. "You better hope that I will. You better have a damn good explanation for all of this. Have you seen what I've sent you? Because that's only a portion of all the things that people are saying about you right now. The both of you, actually, but after seeing that video I couldn't care less what that April Kepner thinks of you. I don't care how famous she is. After this, she's unlikely to have a career in this industry. Not once we're done with her."

"Don't you dare." I snapped out quickly.

"What?"

"Don't go after her, okay? You don't know what's happening right now. Just stay out of this. I can handle it on my own and the last thing that I need right now is your intervention."

She laughed dryly. "I sure hope that's not what you actually think right now."

"I know it's the truth, even if you can't see it." I swallowed thickly. "Do you actually have anything else? Or did you just want to talk to me so you had a better chance to yell at me?" I questioned, already well aware of the answer that I was going to get.

"Oh, I have nothing else to say to you right now." The way she said it made it sound like it was something that I should have been upset about, but right now, I just couldn't have cared less. I'd reconsider when she knew the full truth of everything that was going on, but even then, I'd have to keep my fingers crossed. There were rarely guarantees with her. "You need to get your shit together, Jackson. Not if you don't want to see your entire career sink. I don't just mean acting, either. This could ruin everything for you."

There was likely a truth to her words, but it was something that I didn't want to think about right now.

"I'll talk to you later, Mom." Without saying goodbye, I hung up.

My heart rate was up just a little bit from the pure frustration of talking to the both of them back to back. Probably not my best idea, but my mom hadn't been any more calming than my grandfather had been. With my phone still out, I send a text to the one person that I've actually been interested in talking to the past few days of my isolation.  
_  
[Sent] Hey. Is everything okay?_

_[Received] Yeah. Fine._

I stared at the brief message from April for a few seconds as I waited and hoped for some kind of follow up. She wasn't nearly as expressive of text as she was in person, something that I had noticed from the last couple of days of messaging with her, but even this seemed to be rather short for her. A few more seconds of no communication passed between the two of us before I began typing again.  
__  
[Sent] Is there anything that I can do or help with?  
[Sent] Talked to my grandfather today. He's pissed but he has no clue what's really going on.

_[Received] Okay. That's a good thing.  
[Received] Do you want to come over?_

_[Sent] Sure. I'll be there soon._

It's a familiar way to her house this time, no need to check my GPs to make sure that I'm going in the right direction even if it's a slightly different path from my house as opposed to coming from the studio. She does live on the other side of town but I don't mind. With tinted windows, I like to think that I'm fine in getting around, even if the paparazzi have no doubt been trying to get a picture of me since the big fight had gone down in the studio. That had been part of the reason that it had been so easy to isolate myself in my house. I didn't want to keep things focused on the two of us.

The feeling of safety means nothing, it turns out. The second that I pull into her driveway I can hear the chatter and see the flashes of the camera from the peripheral, catching me as I hurry into her house and ring the bell. This would not help the talk die down whatsoever.

"I'm so sorry," I replied quickly when the door opened. "I didn't know that they were here."

"It's okay," she rushed me into her house quickly, shutting the door and locking it quickly. "I didn't realize that they were out there either. I've been holed up inside." She admitted sheepishly.

"Me too," I gave her a smile. "But I'm glad that you're okay." I brought in for her a hug. She lingered there briefly and I could feel a deep breath that she took as she gave me a little squeeze before pulling away.

"Yeah," April murmured and wet her lips. "I am. I've just been going over all my options with a lawyer."

"That's a good thing. Do you have a good one?" I already knew that my grandfather would have the best that would be offered to him. He'd never had to deal with any kind of big lawsuit like this but I knew there would be nothing getting in the way of him and trying to take all of this down.

She nodded. "Addison Montgomery. She's helping Amelia and I. Let me show you what we've got so far."

Joining her on the couch, she showed me everything that the three of them had pieced together as far as building a legal case against him. That was an important part of it, but trial by the press would also have a huge effect on how things would go. He was old. He wouldn't necessarily have years of his life to recover from this kind of thing – I knew that this was meant to be his big, last film, the one that his career went out on to make sure that it ended on a high note and could continue down the rest of my family. That was gone for him, fortunately. It would be difficult to do but all efforts were going to be put in.

My phone buzzed again and I reflexively glanced down at it to see another headline sent from my mother, letting out a sigh as I shifted over to show April the latest headline about the two of us.

_JACKSON AND APRIL: ENEMIES BY DAY, LOVERS BY NIGHT?_

She sighed.

"I guess they really can't decide if we love or hate each other."


	5. Chapter 5

**_ APRIL _ **

"In and out, nice and slow. Feel the stretch just a little longer. Live and breathe in your discomfort."

It had taken me a long time to get my crow pose and it wasn't necessarily from a lack of physical capability. A huge portion of it was the fear of taking my feet off the ground and falling - on my face, head, butt, it didn't matter. Accomplishing it had been one of the most rewarding experiences that I had achieved at this little yoga studio, so covered in sweat from the heat and humidity turned up that it would have been easy to actually slip. But getting my feet off the ground and conquering the fear with accomplishing the pose had been a huge milestone for me.

Side crow, however, was just plain hard. I couldn't blame that on a mental block. Holding it for more than a second or two made the muscles in my arms burn, especially given this was my weaker side. My arm shook until the instructor said we could come out of it.

"Onto your back for Shavasana. You earned it," Rachel murmured.

Stillness comes over me as I lay out on my back to recover, feet falling outward and palms facing the ceilings. The fans in the room turn off and the sudden movement of air helps my body temperature begin to cool off substantially. With a couple of slow and deep breaths, I try to calm down and soothe my body the best that I can.

My best attempt is made to try and focus on nothing other than my body at the moment. To ignore the paparazzi that are likely to be outside of the studio given this was one of the more routine things in my life that I participated in, the fact that I was going to meet up with Amelia and Addison soon to go over things one more time in person before the audio recording was leaked and charges were pressed against Harper Avery, before the entirety of my lie as I knew it was turned upside down. It was a lot to try and push outside of my mind given that it had been dominating every second of my free time now that filming was on hiatus. Every waking moment was spent about this, whether it was with Amelia, Jackson, or by myself. It was eating me up.

Jackson had been a blessing in disguise despite the last name attached to him. There were now rumors about the two of us dating – it was frustrating, honestly. I liked him a lot but having that kind of talk int he midst of everything else was just another layer of complication that I would have preferred to avoid.

By the time that the class ended, I quickly headed to the showers. The yoga studio that I went to was pretty expensive but overall worth it. They had nice showers, pretty much everything that I had at home although different brands. The ladies here are fond of me, too. They treat me just like anyone else instead of like a celebrity, perhaps because I wasn't the only client here. I pretty much went to classes from two different ladies, Rachel or Melanie, exclusively because they were the ones I was most comfortable with.

"Hey, April," Rachel called out my name as I grabbed my bag to head out.

My eyebrows shot up. "Yeah?"

"I hope everything's okay with you." She gave me a small smile, saying nothing more.

"Thank you, Rachel," I returned the smile. "I'll see you sometime next week."

People were still in my corner. It was a nice reminder to have that and I let out a breath of relief as I headed out the back of the studio. The paparazzi don't get a glimpse of me until I'm driving away, a few flashes of the camera catching the peripheral of my eye as I turn around the corner. I wasn't heading home just yet – that was why I had showered there instead of just leaving immediately. I had a quiet meeting with Amelia planned.

Because we were going public at the same time but didn't want things to look any more planned or colluded than they already were, it was just a quick meeting at her house. We had picked a day. A time. Everything was planned out meticulously.

Pulling into the secured parking lot of her building, I ring up to the loft and get left up immediately. I'm more nervous now than I had ever been about all of this – a good nervous, this time, I thought. I wanted things to work out for the both of us. Amelia was famous too, particularly in the horror movie industry, but her background wasn't as clean as mine. That was why she hadn't gone forward the first time, according to her. She thought because of the drinking and drugs that no one would ever believe her. But with both of our stories, with my recording… there would be no doubt that this was the cold, hard truth.

Knocking on her door quietly, I waited, shifting my weight from side to side. A few seconds passed before she opened up and I let out a breath relief, stepping forward and hugging her immediately.

"I'm glad that you're here," Amelia breathed out. Then, I smell it. Alcohol.

"You've been drinking." My brows furrowed. "Please tell me that this is just a one-time, tomorrow's a big stressful day, kind of thing. You know you can't."

"I… yes." God, I hoped that she was being honest. "It's just today. There was no way that I was going to get through today without drinking. Or getting high. And I thought this would be the lesser of two evils."

"Please take care of yourself, Amelia," I murmured. "Just… start sobering up now, okay? We need to go over the details tomorrow and make sure that everything plays out the way that we want it to. We're going to be in control of this narrative. We have to be sure of that." Maybe that was the control freak in me coming out just a bit.

"Fine." She wet her lips, shaking her head. "Come on, let's sit."

Following her over to the couch, we both sat down and talked about the plan that we had come out with. I would go first and have the tape released to the public, then after the news went public, Amelia would go to the police and the public too. After that, it was possible that other women we hadn't planned for would come forward too. It was hard to say for sure. From that description that Amelia had given me, it didn't sound like it was the first time for him. He had approached me with far too much confidence to not have done it multiple times in the past.

Leaving her house, I feel a little more secure about everything, but it doesn't change or stop the nerves. They still gnaw away at the pit of my stomach, determined to stay exactly where they were. Good intentions didn't seem to change that.

My phone buzzed and I waited until I was at the stoplight to check it. It was Jackson.  
 _  
[Received] Hey, how's it going?_

_[Sent] Okay. Heading to lawyer's now. I'll text you once I'm done with the police station._

_[Received] Good luck._  
  
It buzzed once more with a follow-up text – this one just two emojis, a thumbs up and a heart. It was just enough to make me smile.

Addison's office isn't a far drive from Amelia's house even if I listen to more of my Spotify playlist ends up taking my focus longer than expected because of the constant traffic that plagued the city. There were some things that no one could get around, fame and money certainly didn't matter. When I finally get there, I'm relieved to get out of the car and get rid of some of the antsiness that was in my system. It seemed easier said than done.

Her secretary greets me with a friendly smile and I take a cup of lemon water from the waiting room before sitting down. It was empty, fortunately, I didn't want anyone to see me there. It was probably better that way. It was kind of hard to keep up, honestly. I'd seen so many television shows that I wasn't always sure what was realistic.

"April, come in," Addison's presence was announced with the sound of her crystal clear voice, head and matching hair appearing from her office door as she waved me in.

Standing up quickly from the chair, smoothing out my skirt and heading over, I shook her hand as I walked in. She knew so much about Amelia and myself that I felt like it wasn't necessary to be formal with her most of the time, but this was her office and workspace. It was a little different here.

"Please, sit," she motioned to one of the chairs in her office.

"Thank you," I gave a polite smile.

"How are you feeling?" Addison asked.

I took a deep breath and released it in a sigh before I could control it. "Nervous." That didn't seem to even begin to capture all of the feelings that were currently ruminating inside of my mind but I didn't want to burden her with them. "But I know that this is what I need to do. For myself and… for every other woman who might have been through this." That singular, focused thought was the one that got me through every moment of doubt and panic that could come over me. There had been plenty of those.

"That sounds like a very brave and very normal response to me," she murmured compassionately. "Do you still plan on going to the police station today?"

"Yes." But I might have to throw up between now and then.

"Remember, there are specific law enforcement officers who are trained to interact with survivors of sexual assault. While there are occasional exceptions, most law enforcement officers are understanding and on your side. If you do encounter someone who isn't taking your case seriously, ask for their supervisor and let me know." The words were ones that she had already told me, but an important reminder still.

"I remember." I rubbed my hands against my thighs. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes, actually," Addison leaned forward and rested her forearms on the table. "Normally I wouldn't share this with you, but Amelia gave me permission to do so."

"What is it?"

"The last time that I met with Amelia, she shared that she had a sexual assault kit done on her. The hospital still saved it so that it could potentially be tested, should she change her mind about pursuing charges."

I interrupted her, "So there's physical evidence? I mean, even more than the tape?"

"Yes," she nodded. "There's physical evidence. Amelia will have a request to have it processed after she goes to the police station herself. That should help substantially with your case, both in the eyes of the world and inside of the courtroom."

"Oh my god." A smile broke across my face, hand coming up to cover my mouth and leaning forward slightly. "That's… that's amazing. That is such good news. Wow. I can't believe it."

"It is good news for both of you." She agreed.

"I'm going to the police station after this." My hands rubbed together as I spoke though I wasn't cold. "Then it'll all start."

"And it'll be worth it," Addison reminded me.

It would be.

My workout playlist is the only thing capable of trying to keep my nerves from eating me alive as I drive from her office to my local police precinct, turned up at a loud and abhorrent volume that I would have never used under any other circumstance. I was almost sure that any car stopped next to me at a light would have been capable of hearing it clearly for themselves.

Pulling into the parking lot, the station isn't particularly crowded. There are police cruisers here and there officers coming and going from inside the station, and a few civilians as well – or maybe criminals, I can't tell. For a few minutes, all I can do is sit there and stare at people as they come and go. I wondered if they felt the same way that I did right now, like my entire life was going to change and I couldn't say with certainty whether or not it would be for better or worse. It would be for the betterment of some, sure, I just didn't know about myself.

Clutching onto the CD tightly, I got out of my car and very slowly walked up and into the station. An older woman greeted me once I passed through security. I can't tell if she doesn't recognize who I am or was trained not to react, but I appreciate the demeanor. When I tell her what kind of detective that I need to talk to, her face instantly softened and she picked up the phone to call someone to come get me. I only have to wait for a minute or two before my name is called.

"April Kepner?" A young woman, maybe my age. "My name is Detective Edwards. You can call me Stephanie. Come with me."

A handshake was exchanged between the two of us before she took me back deeper into the police station. She glanced down at the CD in my hands as I sat down. It's a private room, just the two of us, but it doesn't look like an interrogation room. At least, not any on television.

"What's on the CD?" Stephanie asked.

"What happened." I took a deep breath. "Do you know who I am?"

"Yes ma'am, I do."

"The… the man on the tape is Harper Avery. The Harper Avery. He tried to force me into having sex with him and I think that he might have forced himself on me if someone hadn't interrupted." My gaze dropped as I spoke and I handed the CD over to her.

She put it into her computer and listened to it once. "I'm sorry that this happened to you."

"I just don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's all that I care about." The only thing I was certain of.

"Well, coming forward is a good way to try and stop that." She murmured empathetically. "To file a report, I need to get a few more details from you so I can fill out the paperwork, but this will go straight to evidence. This isn't going to be an easy process, I'm going to be honest with you upfront. I'm sure that's something that you already know but coming forward like this is incredibly brave, no matter what anyone else says."

"Thank you." Even though I knew that most officers were reasonably trained and I was lucky that it was a woman sitting down with me and not a man, it's a relief to have someone who just believed me. After all of the horror stories that I had heard, I had prepared myself for the opposite.

Her fingers clicked against the keyboard as she pulled someone else, then turned to me. "We'll start off with just some basic personal information."

The personal information, by far, is the easiest thing to give her. My name and address, contact information. It was only when it began to get into some of the deeper things, relevant to the case itself, that I can feel some of the heaviness return. It's impossible to ignore as it settled there. There's a trash can that I can't help but eye as I spell out every single detail, trying to push the memories that come flooding back out of my head. But I can't forget any of it. The nasty way that he looked at me, how the simple grabbing of my robe meant so much more. It might have been nothing and yet at the same time, it had been so goddamn intrusive and exploitative.

It was a good thing that there was no makeup on my face. The trails stained down my cheeks were clear yet no doubt still present just from my skin being a little dry. I manage to keep some vague composure, sobs silent instead of heaving. That wasn't always the case.

But the dehydration certainly comes with all of the tears that leave me. There was a throbbing in my head that I can't get rid of and even the glass of water that Detective Edwards brings me when we take a pause in the middle doesn't alleviate any of the pain there. It does take off the edge of nausea there, but I knew this was going to be a constant state of being for me in the coming weeks. It would become difficult once it went to the media. I was going to have to tune it out. I wouldn't be able to survive otherwise.

It would still be impossibly hard no matter what.

"I want to thank you for coming in today, Miss Kepner," Detective Edwards started once everything had been taken down and detailed out. "As I said before, it's very brave of you to do so."

"Thank you for listening."

Stepping toward her and taking a deep breath, I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a soft hug. Her arms returned around my back and she hugged me back. A few more tears managed to slip past my cheeks despite my best efforts and I sniffled quickly to try and prevent any more from following suit. Sometimes crying was a relieving thing, healthy, but as much as it had been done, it only felt completely exhausting at this point.

"Do you have someone to drive you home?" She asked me as we separated, eyebrows raised.

"Uh, no," I shook my head. "I'm driving myself."

"You might think about being with someone you trust tonight," Stephanie suggested. "It might help."

Chewing at my lower lip, I nodded my head. "Thank you, for everything. I'll think about it."

Detective Edwards walked me back out to the front of the precinct, handing me her card to make sure that I had her phone number in case I needed anything between now and her getting in contact with me for next steps. She gave me a comforting squeeze of her shoulder and watched me as I walked back to my car.

Once I was inside of my Audi, I locked the doors and shut my eyes, leaning my head back giants the seta and taking a few slow, deep breaths. My heart was still pounding away inside my chest and my temples were throbbing with a headache that had settled there. I couldn't decide if I wanted to sleep or cry more. Both sounded tempting. A vacation away from everyone and everything and most importantly, social media, sounded even nicer. I could stay off of Twitter certainly, but the rest of it would be next to impossible. If I had thought that the paparazzi were bad now with filming on hiatus and the rumors swirling around that, it was only going to get drastically worse from here.

Pulling my phone out of my purse, I stared at it for a few seconds. No messages from Addison or Amelia. A bit of a surprise but probably a good thing. I wasn't sure that I could deal with anything too overwhelming right now but I knew that I needed to send at least a message to one of them. Chewing at the inside of my cheek, I tapped on my conversations with Amelia before typing out a message.

_[Sent] I just got done at the police station. Detective Edwards. She was nice. Understanding._

Hitting send, I breathe out and shut my eyes for a moment. I had gotten so lucky. I knew that it could have been a hundred times worse if I had been with the wrong detective. Maybe police stations had gotten better about that sort of thing in the wake of recent news.

_[Received] Glad to hear it. I'll see if I can meet with her tomorrow.  
[Received] Love you, ginger. Owe you the world._

_[Sent] Anything for you._

Smiling softly after the text is sent, I hold my phone to my chest. This was why I was doing what I was doing. I was giving her the strength and the bravery to come forward. Maybe both of us would give some other woman, famous or not, the strength to come forward about what Harper Avery or any other man had done to them. If they could see us do it, then they could find the encouragement to do it themselves. That was what it was about, after all. That was the same reason that I had taken a few of my roles over the years. I wanted to help people. There were ways to do that, even in this industry.

Making the decision a bit impulsively, I decided to follow Detective Edwards' advice. Going home alone wouldn't do me any good. A quick text is sent to Jackson, asking him to come over to my house. It doesn't surprise me that he replied within minutes saying he would.

The traffic getting back to my house is even worse than it had been driving to the police station, but it's a lot easier to channel a little bit of anger into people being stupid drivers than it is to think about my life. With a bit of loud music, it takes off the edge. I rather deal with someone cutting me off and swearing up and down. It got out some of the frustration that was still lying dormant inside of me, which had to be a good thing.

Because of the time that it takes to get to my house, and the fact that it's already dinner time, I open up a bottle of red wine and put some pasta on the stove. With mushrooms and alfredo sauce, it would be enough to satiate me and keep me from getting drunk too quickly. Being a lightweight was both good and bad.

It also means it's not long before my doorbell was ringing.

Placing a lid on the pot and rushing over the door, I usher him inside and to the kitchen, getting another full glass of wine poured and handing it over to him without even asking if he wanted one. I needed to drink a bit tonight and I didn't want to be alone in that particular endeavor, even if I was going to be on my second glass of wine by the time dinner was actually ready.

"So, you said you were going to the police station today?" Jackson asked.

I nodded my head, stirring through the sauce. "I did. I talked to a… very kind detective."

"And how did that go?"

"Good, I think," I paused, biting my lower lip. "I mean, I don't really know how that kind of thing is supposed to go but I gave her the tape and told her everything that happened, and she seemed to believe me. Amelia is going to go tomorrow after the recording has gone public. That way, well, they're going to have no choice but to press charges, I think. That's what my lawyer said. It'd be next to impossible for them not to once the press starts with it." Assuming they believed us, of course. But that was for the proof. "And there's one more thing?" I picked up my wine, draining it.

"What's that?" Jackson poured me another glass.

"Amelia apparently has a rape kit in storage with Harper's evidence." I turned to look at him after speaking. I could see the color drain away from his face. I knew he believed me already, but that was the kind of information that certainly changed perspectives.

"Wow." He breathed out. "I… I don't know what to say. I mean, that's good for you guys, right?" I nodded. "I never realized what a monster he was. I guess it makes sense. I mean, of course, it does, in hindsight. It's still just hard to figure out."

I lifted my shoulders slightly. "It's hard to wrap your head around. I can see that. But as long as you still believe us, I think it's okay."

"I do. I believe the both of you." He reaffirmed.

The two of us sit down to eat dinner like two normal people, not talking about the bigger issue between us or the movie or anything relating to fame – and god, did it feel good to just act normal. It's a feeling that I'm not used to. But it was certainly one that I was more than happy to embrace.

By the time that the bottle of wine is empty and I'm halfway through my third glass of wine, we were both sitting in the living room on my sectional together. I had stretched out my legs and my feet were resting on my lap and he doesn't seem to mind the closeness between us – it wasn't like physical closeness was anything new. At least this time we weren't naked beside pasties and cock socks. Even if we were, though, I don't think that it would have mattered. I was comfortable around him. I didn't get that with a lot of people anymore and I knew that it was something rare, something that I needed to take stock of and appreciate. Especially with the timing of where this was in my life. I was truly lucky, in a way, even if it was a little difficult to feel that on the surface level.

Conversation had fallen into a natural lull between the two of us and I appreciate the comfortable silence there. Most of the time, silence in my life was tense or impatient. Not adult like this. I drained the rest of my wine, setting down the empty glass and resting my head on the arm of the sofa. I wasn't tired anymore, just relaxed this time.

"Can I ask you something?" Jackson got up, grabbing both of our glasses and opening up another bottle of wine that I had out on the counter.

"Anything," I answered.

"How did you manage to do it? I get why… but it's so much. I can't imagine how you could go through with that. You know that there are tons of people in this industry who have chosen to stay quiet for years about all the shit going on in the industry." He asked.

This time, the silence that comes to me isn't comfortable.

Enough wine was in my system that I don't tense up or panic like I might have under normal situations. Instead, it's an overwhelming amount of sadness that washed through me. The memories were ones that were impossible to forget and even though, for years, I had kept them buried, I hadn't been able to since I had found out about Amelia and decided to go through with this job. It wasn't so many nightmares, just a constant, dull, throbbing awareness.

"I was raped."

The statement is blunt and heavy and hung in the air between the two of us. Those were words that I had never said out loud, not so directly like that. It was both relieving and breaking to be able to just say it.

"What?" Jackson questioned.

"When I was eighteen. Not… not by Harper or in the industry. Back home, in Moline. I was loud and wanted to be wild and I went to a party where one of the boys there decided to rape me. A friend, actually. He was a friend. He didn't drug me or anything. He pinned me down on the bed and forced himself on me and I cried the entire time. I begged him to stop. He didn't." I don't look at him, even as he handed me another glass of wine. A tear hits the back of my hand as I look down at it before taking a long sip from it. I can remember that night too easily. It's my most vivid memory of home, the strong negative affect burning itself into my memory.

"April…" he breathed out and shifted near me. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I… you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I'm not going to make you." His brows were drawn together. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that," he repeated the sentiment.

"I didn't report it." I continued, licking wine on my lips. "My mom blamed me. She said that I was a slut and slapped me so hard that I saw stars because she thought I had ruined the family name. You know? The Kepners – we were the family in town that everyone loved and trusted. But because I was attacked, because I was raped, it was somehow my fault. I believed that for years."

I don't know why the words keep coming out of my mouth. I can still feel the sting of where my mother's hand had connected with my cheekbones all of those years ago, the bruise that had been there when I had left the next morning and traveled across the country to California. I had never been able to look her in the eye again.

"You regret not reporting it." The conclusion that Jackson made was obvious.

"I do."

"Do you know what happened to him?" He shifted toward me as he asked, sitting down by my hip and taking my hand. His two larger ones hold one of mine, rubbing his thumb across the back of my knuckles soothingly.

"He's dead." A small smile twitched the corner of my mouth. "He overdosed a few years later."

"So he can never hurt you or anyone else again." I nodded.

Even though I had been laying down, Jackson wrapped both of his arms around me and held me in a hug so tight that it almost felt like he might have been able to piece some of the broken shards inside of me back together, like he was the glue that I was looking for all along. There are no tears left inside of me to cry, not right now. Getting out the truth and saying it to someone who could understand, who could validate what I had been through instead of blaming me for it… that was the kind of healing that I had never been allowed in the last dozen years of my life. My therapist didn't even know about it. I had always talked about the present with her, not the past.

"Neither can my grandfather," Jackson added the reminder as he rubbed my back gently. "No one's going to hurt you like that again. Okay? You, or Amelia. I'm going to make sure to take care of both of you." Those were the words that finally made another tear slip past my eyelid.

"Thank you," I whispered as he pulled back, his hand lingering and cupping my face.

"You've had a lot to drink," he murmured. "Do you want to lay down? Tomorrow's going to be hard."

"Yeah." I nodded my head, letting out a heavy sigh.

To my surprise, Jackson stepped back and slipped his arms under my knees and back, picking me up off of the couch and carrying me bridal style. I direct him to my bedroom and he carried me up the stairs slowly before reaching my bedroom in the back of my house, opening up the door. It's a large and spacious rooms King sized canopy bed covered in throw pillows. He set me down on it and I turned my head toward him. My fish tank was behind him – a large and fancy one. It usually helped soothe me and was easier to take care of the most animals with the weird hours that filming sometimes had.

"You can call me tomorrow if you want," he offered as he tucked some hair behind my ear, his hand lingering on my face for a few seconds. I placed my hand on top of his, taking a deep breath and giving him a small smile.

"Wait," I stopped him. "Will you just stay with me? Just for tonight?" I pleaded with him.

Mystical blue-green eyes widened as he looked down at me before nodding his head. "Of course, whatever you need."

Jackson kicked off his shoes and I shifted and squirmed, kicking down the covers of my bed so that we would both be able to crawl beneath them. Reaching beneath my shirt, I unclipped my bra and pulled it off strap by strap, tossing it onto the bench at the end of my bed. He took that as a sign and slipped out of his jeans before joining me in the bed, stretching out his legs beneath them. There was plenty of room for the both of us in the bed and it was nice to not be alone in it. I had gotten used to sleeping alone, sure, but there was just something about having another person that you trusted laying down with you.

Laying still, I could begin to feel the effect of all of the alcohol that I had drank, more than just a pleasant buzz but a layer of heaviness that was exhausting. That was the usual effect of when I ran – a little of the edge taken off before the exhaustion finally hit me and I needed to lay down and sleep it off.

"Thank you," I whispered to him one more time as I curled up against him.

"Sleep well, princess. I'm here."


	6. Chapter 6

**_ JACKSON _ **

There were certain things in life that I had never understood.

Rape was one of them. Even though not all perpetrators were male, the vast majority of them were, and it was that kind of perspective that I just couldn't understand at all. It couldn't have possibly been appealing. I'd never so much as taken a drunk girl home no matter how badly they claimed to have wanted it – they lacked the ability to consent and that kind of clarity was something that I appreciated. Maybe it had been my subconscious protecting me my entire life because of the blood that ran through my veins. But it didn't make any sense to want to take that from someone. I didn't understand how it was so damn common. It filled me with a rage that was hard for me to control, and one that I certainly didn't want to put on display in front of April. It had to be contained and buried. She had dealt with enough shit from men in her life and I didn't want to be just another person on the list.

But it was. Even if I couldn't understand it, facts were facts. It was no different than multivariable calculus or chemical engineering. They were still hard facts and that didn't change just because I couldn't wrap my head around the way that it worked. But this time, it sucked a whole lot more.

There weren't a lot of memories of Harper throughout the entirety of my childhood, to be honest. I had always known that he was there but my mom had a hard time staying present and him, even more so. I knew that at least my mom had done her best to try and be there but I wasn't sure that he had ever made the same kind of effort to be present in my life. I wasn't sure if it was a race thing – though that was certainly possible because he had made it clear over the years with voting red every election and making passing, coded commentary, that he wasn't a fan. It made sense that he wouldn't care for women any more than he did black people like my mom and myself. I knew that he didn't have any issue with my mother, but I also knew that she had tough skin and didn't take anyone's shit. It was amazing that the two hadn't completely gone at one another over the years. Or at least, not publicly enough that I knew about it.

Now any instance with Harper was going to be brought in the limelight, no matter how big or small, as people instinctively took sides and went hunting for any kind of evidence that could prove their point or refute the others. It happened every single time and I didn't expect this to be any different. I didn't keep up with him in the news but I was sure there would be a mix of good and bad. For April's sake, I hope that the dirt they dug up was all negative.

April was still sleeping soundly, curled up at my side. Her head was pressed into my ribs and knees brought up against her chest so she formed a tight ball, looking almost like a cat. She was peaceful. I didn't know if she was always like this when she slept or if it was alcohol-induced, but she had slept easily through the night.

Scrolling through the headlines currently on my phone, they were just now starting to roll in. Both April and Harper's names were trending on Twitter as well as the hashtag Me Too. Neither surprised me. I looked at the most popular posts on the tag – a mix of positive, negative, and neutral. Some wanted more proof. Some were happy to turn on him. Some were the typical misogynists who thought that she was coming forward for attention or something of the utter. For many, though, it was the explanation for why filming on our movie had suddenly paused.  
 _  
APRIL KEPNER COMES FORWARD AND SAYS #METOO_

_HARPER AVERY SCANDAL: SEXUAL HARASSMENT OR AN OVERREACTION?  
_  
That one, at least, would hopefully change once Amelia came forward with her story and evidence.

Perhaps staying away from Twitter and all of the other media outlets would have been a good idea, yet I can't seem to tear myself away from it. Unfortunately, the option is taken away from me as my phone buzzed with my mother's name appearing on the screen. April stirred beside me at the sudden noise and I gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling myself out of the bed and heading toward her bathroom to answer the phone.

"Hi, Mom."

"Did you know?" The question was blurted out without any kind of formalities. That was too predictable.

"Did I know that my grandfather is a rapist? Is that what you're asking me?" It's a bit of a rude way to turn it back around on her, yet it came out anyway. I hear April call out for me and I open the door just enough so she can see me on the phone. She gave a slight nod of her head and I retreated back into the tile room.

"You know damn well that is not what I was asking. And before you try and turn this back around me, no, I had no idea that Harper was harassing her. But it does explain why he was so insistent on making sure that she was cast and no one else. Mm, I should have seen this coming. We're going to need to silence her. Of course, she'll have to be fired and the movie will need to restart – there's no way that it's going to be able to go forward with the two of them working together." From the way my mom spoke, she already had a plan.

I interrupted her. "You're kidding me, right? You're not seriously acting like she's the villain here?"

"I don't care who did what," she countered. "I am trying to save the face of our family name."

"Do you really think that's the most important thing here?" I questioned. "He clearly harassed April and I know it's not the first time that this has happened. He's a predator, Mom. You can't blame anyone other than him for that."

"What do you mean you know?" Mom quickly caught on to my words.

"You'll find out soon enough," I sighed. "I've got to go." Without giving her a chance, I hung up.

While I was in the bathroom, I splashed some water on my face and glanced at my reflection. Surprisingly, I don't look tired. Even though she had been easy to sleep in the same bed with, there were too many thoughts in my head to get rid of and that was distracting. I stepped back out into the bedroom where April was waiting for me, wrapped up in a robe and sitting cross-legged on top of the covers.

"Was that your mother?" April asked. I nodded my head. "I'm guessing she's not happy."

"No, no she isn't," I sighed. "That's to be expected. More worried about her name than anything else in the world."

She chewed her lower lip. "I guess this really is real, huh?"

"Yeah, it is." I stepped toward her. "How do you feel?"

"Nervous. A little nauseous. If I didn't know any better, I'd just blame it on being hungover," she gave a weak laugh.

"Hey, it's going to be okay." I sat down on the bed next to her and blamed my hand on top of her knee. "You're going to get through this. Things might seem shaky right now but once Amelia comes forward with evidence, it's going to be even better for you, okay?" Squeezing her knee for some kind of reassurance, I sought out her gaze.

"I know that you're right in the long term," April looked up at me. "I guess it's just a little hard to see that right now."

She turned away from me as she reached to get her phone off the nightstand and I watched her expression briefly as she scrolled through the notifications on her phone. Her brows were drawn together and I had to imagine there was a mix of good and bad. I didn't know if she had told her publicist about this before she had gone through it – I had never thought to ask. But I knew now that she was going to be getting tons of attention, her publicist was probably fielding calls left and right while trying to get a hold on things. Definitely not a job I envied.

"I'm going to head home, okay? Unless you want me to stay longer."

"Oh," she breathed out before nodding her head. "Yeah, that's okay. Thank you… for last night. That means a lot to me."

"Of course. Like I said, anything you need, I'm here for you." Leaning toward her, I placed a kiss on her forehead.

For a moment, there's something between us, an electricity crackling in the air that can't be ignored. The attraction is there, stronger than it had ever been. But now wasn't the right time. It's hard to ignore, but it was what was best for both of us. Deep down, I think that she had to know that, too.

There was no gaggle of paparazzi outside of her house like I had expected there to be and I suspected that had everything to do with the fact that there was, instead, a police cruiser. I can't see if it's am an or woman inside of it, and there's no way for me to know if it was the detective who April had talked to yesterday, but I hoped that it was her. She deserved to have a little peace and quiet in her own house, of all places, and that wasn't always possible. I smiled and waved at them before getting into my car and heading back toward my house. I don't see a wave back, but it made me feel better about leaving her at home.

Headlines do change in another direction when Amelia comes forward with her story and there's a leak about the rape kit.

A drastic shift in most outlets was taken once there was another story out there that had another level of evidence to it, something that had gone further than what had happened between April and Harper. And even though it's hard to hear about the story, and on Twitter, there are more and more stories flooding the tags of their names and the Me Too tag, I know that it's for the best. There are even a few men who come forward online, to my surprise.  
 __  
APRIL KEPNER: BADASS ON AND OFF SCREEN!

_ALL THE DETAILS ABOUT AMELIA SHEPHERD'S HEARTBREAKING STORY._

_HARPER AVERY: WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW._

The last one comes out four days after Amelia came forward. This one came forward with an anonymous woman claiming that he had harassed and coerced her into sleeping with him on the set of a movie back in the early 2000s. It was a confirmation of what I had already suspected after talking to April and Amelia. Neither one is surprised judging by their texts. It's sad, although it was a good thing for the sake of their case against him. The more people that came forward with stories and proof, the harder it would be for Harper and my mother to try and make this all disappear.

_WAS JACKSON AVERY IN ON IT?_

The headline was misleading and I had felt sickened when I first saw it, thinking that I was being thrown into the loop with my grandfather without any kind of evidence behind it, but when I clicked on the article I was surprised by the perspective it had taken. I shouldn't have been. It was pictures of April and me around town together, wondering if I had already known about my grandfather before the news had gone public. Technically, it was true. But April, Amelia, and I had all decided not to comment on anything yet. I wanted to stay out of it and leave it in their control. It just didn't feel like my space.

So much for keeping away from the media.

Of course, keeping the news on was a necessity to the extent. Fire season in California seemed to be constant no matter what time of year it was and there was pretty much always some kind of drought going on. It was just one more thing that made it such an expensive place to live.

Despite what I was hoping for, though, there's no change in them. Firefighters were working their asses off to try and contain it but there was only so much that could be really be doing to fight back against mother nature on such a scale like that. It was getting a bit closer to the city. It's not enough that I needed to worry about evacuating, but it was just enough to spark an idea. Once it's in my head, I can't get rid of it. I pretty much have to go through with it.  
 _  
[Sent] Hey, I have a surprise for you. I want you to pack a bag. Just a few days._

_[Received] Surprise?  
[Received] I normally hate surprises, but you know what? I'm in.  
_  
I smiled at the response that I got from April, sending another to let her know I'd be there soon. I'd keep in mind that she wasn't fond of surprises in the future, but after how challenging the past few days must have been for her, I knew that she needed something nice. A break away from this city would do her some good. One more text goes out, though this time, to Amelia.  
 _  
[Sent] Hey. Any interest in spending a couple days in New York with April and me?  
_  
After all, I had promised April that I would take care of the both of them.  
 __  
[Received] Out of town already. With my brother. Thanks for the offer.

If she hadn't already said that she was with family then it would have been slightly disappointing that she hadn't accepted the offer too, but that was a pretty good reason. I was glad that she had someone that she could be with, too. Amelia was closer to April than she was with me – we'd only really communicated over the phone of through April. But hopefully spending time with her brother was helping her take care of herself.

Setting down my phone, it doesn't take me long to pack a bag. I know exactly where we're going and even if not what we're doing, well, it was a start. A quick call was made to arrange the family jet. I doubted that Harper or Catherine was going to be using it any time soon given that they had more than enough to worry about right here in the city. It was unlikely that they would miss it nor even notice its absence. If they got pissed about me using it when I so rarely did, then, oh well. I wasn't particularly concerned about irritating the two of them right now. I hated how Mom had responded to what was going on and the fact that she cared more about our family name, her last name, than what had actually happened.

With my bag thrown in the trunk of my car, I headed over toward her house. There's still a police officer that was sitting outside but she must have told him or her that I was coming because they don't get out or stop to question me as I get out and head to the door. Knocking on it, it takes a minute for her to answer.

"Hey!" April breathed out. "Wow, that was faster than I expected."

"I'm a man with a plan." I grinned at her. "Do you need help with anything?"

It had taken enough time to drive over there that she already had most of the things that she said that she would need packed. She asked questions and I decided to keep it secret. Even if New York wasn't the fanciest place in the world for some people, it was still my favorite city. I had a penthouse in one of the many high-rise buildings in the city that I was sure that she would like.

The airstrip wasn't far. April doesn't question the use of a private plane though I can see there's a little smile on her lips when she settled her gaze on it, clearly quite pleased with it. I wasn't sure how she was used to traveling, whether it was economy or first class or private planes, but right now, she needed some privacy. Getting through the airport would have been an absolute nightmare. LAX was an easy place for a paparazzi to camp out and try to get a good shot of celebrities coming and going. But here, it's just us and the attendants on the plane for a few hours, mindlessly chatting about nothing.

"And we have officially arrived in New York." Jessica, the flight attendant, informed both of us.

"New York, huh?" April eyed me with a smile.

"It's my favorite city in the world. I thought that it might be able to win you over, too."

A taxi took us from the airstrip to the building where my penthouse was. It's a bit of a long ride up to the penthouse given that the building is tall and the elevator is on the slower side. The doorman was surprised to see me back here, and even more surprised to see who I was with, but he doesn't stop either one of us for much chatter.

"And here we are," I announced once we were on the other side of my door.

"Oh, wow!" April exclaimed.

She toed out of her high heels and gave an excited little squeal, an adorable wiggle following as she stepped further into the penthouse. I set down both of our bags on a counter, watching as she did a little spin to take in the room. Her house was very nice, there was no reason for any of this to awe her, and yet she seemed to take in every little detail of it as if it was a brand new level of luxury for her. There was always something nice about new places, sure, but it was a little childish giddiness that defined her briefly. It was cute, cuter than any grown woman should have been capable of.

"I'm taking that as a good thing," I remarked with a smile of my own cracking my features, taking a few slow steps to follow her through the penthouse. She headed toward the balcony, unlocking it and pushing the door open with a heave of effort as she stepped outside.

"This is really amazing." The wind whipped around April's hair as she squinted to fight against it. "You can see everything from here. I've been to New York before but I've never been this high up, not in a home."

"It's nice," I shrugged my shoulders as I tucked my hands into the pocket. "You get the city and all it has to offer, but we're high enough up that the noise isn't always so bad late at night."

"Smart," she remarked with a nod of her head. "Is it always this windy?"

"Hit and miss. Up here, usually." I chuckled. "Come on, you'll get cold out here."

Shutting and locking the balcony door once she had stepped back inside with me, I watched her step around. Things were a little dusty, maybe, but it was still impressive. Even without being on the balcony, the floor to ceiling windows facing the west provided an impressive view. There were two long sectionals for sitting and she plopped down onto one of them and stretched out her legs, tucking one of the decorative pillows behind her head.

"I love it. I love it already," April smiled. "This is the happiest I've been the past few days."

"I'm glad I could do something for you." A beat passed. "Have you talked to Amelia recently?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "I talked to her on the phone two days ago. She said she was going to spend some time with her brother. Didn't want to risk falling down the old rabbit hole again and getting herself into trouble," she explained.

"Yeah, Amelia mentioned her brother to me. I invited her to come too, thought you might both like it."

April looked at me curiously. "Is it wrong I'm a little glad it's just the two of us?"

"I guess not," I chuckled. A part of me felt the exact same way – a large part, actually. "I like being around you."

"I like being around you too."

There it was again, that same electricity in the air. It was palpable between the two of us and I could practically feel it resting on my chest as I took a deep breath and swallowed. There was something different in her eyes, just enough to make me think that she felt it there too. I keep my feet firmly rooted in place, though. Overwhelming temptation is there but so is fear. I don't want to make things awkward between us or risk ruining what was already there by pushing forward too fast. Yet at the same time… it felt as if things couldn't be awkward, not really. There was a deep-rooted trust between us. One that seemed to go beyond what was easy to explain.

Before either one of us had to act on it, both of our phones buzzed at the same time. An apologetic smile was given as I took my attention away from her and onto my phone, quickly reading the text that was appearing on my screen and processing it. Even though it's easy and clear to read, it took a moment to wrap my head around what it really meant – for both of us.

_HARPER AVERY FIRED FROM PROJECT: TERMINAL._

_SEARCHING FOR NEW DIRECTOR. FILMING WILL RESUME HIATUS ONCE FOUND._

A weight is suddenly lifted upon my shoulder as I stared at the words and read them again and again, a few seconds passing before I can finally allow myself to smile at what my phone said. Even if it wasn't something affirmative about the charges that April and Amelia had both put forth against him – this still meant something big. The reports and information were gaining traction and people were gathering behind the two of them instead of him. The studio had decided to side with her instead of him. Whatever strings my mother had attempted to pull, they had failed. He had lost his job here, his last big one, and she had kept hers. Hopefully, it would still be far from her last.

"This… this is amazing." April expressed. I looked up at her to see a large smile stretching from cheek to cheek on her lips, dimpling one side and easily reaching her eyes to add a certain bright sparkle there.

"You're damn right it is." I agreed immediately. "People believe you, April. They believe both of you."

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace that I immediately returned. My head naturally landed on top of hers, chin resting there and squeezing her tighter against me for just a minute. Even though she was so much smaller than I was, somehow, she fit against me like this perfectly. It was impossible for me to ignore.

"Congratulations," I murmured, kissing the top of her head gently. "This is huge."

"I… I don't even know how to begin to explain how happy I feel right now." She spoke as she pulled away from me. "I even feel safe. In part, because of you, but this…"

"You can let it have all the credit, I won't be offended," I chuckled.

"This helps tremendously." Her fingers come up to her eyes and wipe away some of the moisture that gathered beneath them and I smiled down at her gently. "It really does. I knew that this was going to be hard with the public. I only went on Twitter the first and that was… uh, I mean, it wasn't all bad. It would be ridiculous to say that. But I got so caught up in some of the bad stuff that it was hard to focus on the fact that there are a lot of people out there who understand and support and believe me." She expressed emphatically.

"You're right, there are a lot of people who support and believe you," I affirmed with a nod of my head. "I tried to stay off of the web but it wasn't easy, to be honest. The first day though? That was the worst of it. Once more and more people find out about all of the evidence against him, more and more began to talk about how brave you are, about how brave both of you are, April. People love you."

April sniffled. "I'm really glad to hear that. I… I knew that it was going to help Amelia, and clearly, it helped whoever the anonymous woman is. That gets me through to the end but the bumps along the way can be really rough."

"Well, that's why we're here." I reminded her and placed my hand on her shoulder. "To let you get away from all of those bumps and hitches. The two of us, we're going to have a couple normal of days, disconnected from LA and all of that crap that's going on there, okay? Unless there's some big emergency, we're not going to pay attention any of that stuff."

"Do you really think that we can do that?" She asked, looking up at me hopefully.

"Yeah, yeah I do." I brought her in for another hug, this one much shorter than the last.

This time when she pulled away from me, there's not much distance between the two of us. Touching her and holding her this close only reminded me of everything there was lingering between us. My gaze dropped to her lips, unable to help it briefly. They were full and looked soft. I was almost certain that they would have been sweeter to kiss when it was just the two of us, but I was certain that she needed to make the first move here.

And she does.

April stretched up and placed her lips against mine. Kissing her this time is different than it had been before. There was more meaning behind it when it was just the two of us, no one else watching and no expectations to play pretend. There was an authenticity there. I grabbed her by her hips and pulled her hips against mine as I deepen the kiss between us. Her tongue darted out, wiping against my lips and I opened my mouth to let her do whatever she wanted to me. The hold that she had over me was impossible to ignore. She was sweet and impossibly tempting.

We only separate when the need for oxygen finally outweighed the need for one another. Leaning down, my forehead tilted forward and rested against hers. She was breathing just as heavily as I was.

"I have two more surprises for you, actually. And I know that you said that you hate surprises but I'm thinking that you might approve of these." I don't mean to distract away from it, but the decision was hers to make. "One I can show you here, and the other, we're going out."

"Okay…" April said slowly. "Show me."

Pulling my laptop out of my bag, I pull up the piece that I had been working on for the past few days. Writing wasn't something that I had done a ton of since I had finished up with school, but even if it wasn't a strength of mine, that didn't seem to matter. This was something tangible that I wanted to do. I handed it over to her to let her read it. It was an article – an opinion piece about what was going on between April, Amelia, and Harper. Of course, I had taken their side in it. I had written out everything that I could think to write, poor memories from my childhood and stories that would bring to light his utter lack of character and morals. Women, mostly, were supporting them. Hopefully, tales of racism would get a few more people to believe them, too, make it easier to wrap their heads around the fact that he was far from a good person. And let the public know very, very clearly that I was on their side? I wanted that to help too.

She sat down on the couch to read it, hunched forward and squinting as she scrolled through every line. Her eyes sparkled with tears again and I could only hope that they were in my favor. I would send a copy to Amelia before it went to print, but she was the first person that I wanted to show it. A few minutes of silence pass as she read through all of it. I don't interrupt, giving her all of the time that she needed.

When she finally shut the laptop, she was clearly on the verge of tears. But she smiled as she looked at me.

"This is perfect, Jackson. I love it. It's… it's perfect." She finally spoke.

"Do you really think so?" I questioned slowly.

"Well, you did make a typo. You used the wrong form of its," April gave a small laugh. "But other than that, yes, it's… it's perfect. I think that you should go forward with it. I don't know where, but… this is the exact kind of thing that both of us need. It's going to mean everything to Amelia, and it means everything to me."

"I'm glad that you think so." I sat down next to her. "The world needs to know the truth and hopefully, this will help some people wrap their heads around it. He's a predator in more than one way."

"Thank you." April leaned against me, her head resting on my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around hers.

"You're welcome." I breathed out. "I'll send it to Amelia too, for her approval. After I fix the typo."

She gave another slight chuckle. "Good." A beat passed and I was content to hold her just like that. A few seconds pass before she brought up what I had said earlier. "Are you going to tell me what the third surprise is? I should let you know, you've kind of got my expectations pretty high with number one and two."

"Well, I'll try to meet them," I smiled. "You should put on something nice. Not too nice, but you know, just a little more dressed up than the both of us are now. I need to get changed, too."

Showing her around the penthouse so that she could make herself comfortable and moving both of our bags, I make sure that she was settled before I head into the bathroom to make myself presentable. Washing off just briefly the stiffness from the plane ride, I put on some fresh deodorant and a nice cologne. Black dress pants and a navy button-down shirt are pulled on, along with a blazer. It was a nice restaurant, not over the top, but it was something that I was sure that she was going to enjoy. She deserved a date night.

Of course, that was something that I needed to clarify with her.

Waiting out in the living room and fiddling with the watch that rested on my wrist, I tried not to get too impatient or too nervous. But when she finally walked out of the guest bathroom, I'm too stunned by the way that she looks to think about any of the nerves.

April had put on a simple black dress that hugged her curves marvelously and touched up her makeup just a bit, though it was still naturally beside the bright pink lip. Her hair was now in long waves as if she had just come out of a hair salon. She looked incredible. If this was her version of not being too fancy, I couldn't imagine what getting really dressed up for her must have been like.

"You look beautiful." I complimented her immediately, stepping toward her.

She blushed. "Thank you."

"So… surprise number three." I took a deep breath. "You and I are going out to eat at Carmine's by Times Square." The perfect New York experience and so busy that it would be relatively easy for two celebrities to get by unnoticed if we kept our heads down and didn't linger too much. "I got a reservation for the two of us. It's a family-style restaurant so this time I won't have to worry about you snatching the food off of my plate." A teasing smile was offered.

"You really know how to charm a girl, don't you?" There was a brilliant smile on her lips, so sharp and beautiful that it was more than enough to dazzle me.

"That's what I'm trying to do," I said seriously.

There was a pause as she stared at me, eyes squinting just a little bit this time. I took a deep breath before spilling.

"Really, that's what I'm trying to do. I would like for this to be a date, April. A real date between the two of us. I understand if it's too soon for you or you're not interested because of everything that's going on, but… there is something more between the two of us and I am very interested in giving it a real try."

"You want this to be a real date?" She questioned, presumably for confirmation.

"Yeah," I took a deep breath and nodded. "I do."

"Good. Because I was going in with that assumption already, so it would have been awkward otherwise."


	7. Chapter 7

**_ APRIL _ **

One of the hardest times in my life, and yet courtesy of Jackson, I could not ask for anything more. I didn't need more.

Carmine's was immensely beautiful and very crowded. Even though the two of us split a bottle of red wine, I don't feel the same goofiness as I did before – no doubt because, by the end of the meal, I was stuffed with all of the food that we had consumed together. Garlic bread and stuffed mushrooms were a luxurious start and the lasagna was perfect, even after eating a little too much of it. Splitting the tiramisu was no doubt going overboard with the amount of food that I actually needed to consume. It was a good thing that I was wearing a dress because I was certain that I wouldn't have been able to handle any pants with a button on them.

It was a short walk to the subway station and by the time that we were both seated on it and squished together, I shut my eyes and lean against him. His arm fell around my shoulders and I took a deep breath. He smelled good. I couldn't decide what specific scent it was, but I enjoyed it.

"You're so comfortable," I sighed out dreamily, snuggling up against him.

"You're just in desperate need of a food coma." His chest shook me with his laugh.

With my eyes shut and drowning out our surroundings, I can't tell if it was a short or long ride back to the stop nearest his building. But eventually, Jackson gave me a little nudge so we could both get off the train and walk to his building, taking the slow elevator back up to one of the highest floors. Even now at night, when it was the lights that defined the city and made it still seem awake, it was an extraordinarily beautiful view. New York City was so incredibly different from Los Angeles. It seemed like the only two things that they had in common was a ridiculous number of people and high prices of living. If I had been here by myself, then I was certain that it would have been overwhelming to try and navigate my way around. But I felt secure with Jackson by my side now.

My coat and shoes are left by the door, taking a deep breath and doing another twirl around to take in his space. Something about it fit him even if he didn't spend most of his time here, as far as I could tell. There was a degree that said psychology on the wall, Princeton University. I remembered reading about that somewhere when I had gone through with all my Google stalking. He was smart.

"Psychology, huh?" I questioned, turning back to face him.

"Yep." He popped the syllable as he spoke. "Anything was better than the film industry."

"I never went to college," I shrugged my shoulders. "I always wondered what it was like."

Jackson stepped near me and set his hands on the curve of my hips. My gaze lingered on his lips for a few long seconds as I wrapped my arms around his neck, stretching up onto my tip toes to try and compensate for the height that I lacked standing in front of him. For a moment, we just stood there close to one another, saying nothing. I could feel him breathing.

"Can I tell you something?" I asked quietly.

"Anything."

"I like you, a lot. More than I should, probably, given everything that's going on and that it is probably really inappropriate or me for in the first place. But I do. I don't think that I've ever liked someone in the way that I've liked you." The confession spilled out easily. Too easily.

"You've had boyfriends before." So he had researched me, too. "Do you mean that?"

I nodded. "I have, and I do. I fell into relationships because men liked me and I didn't like being alone. It was easy to settle into one. But this doesn't feel like settling. This feels like falling in the most exciting and exhilarating way possible. When it's dangerous and when I shouldn't. Yet I want to. I want you."

"You already know damn well just how much I want you back." Jackson's hands cup my way and I could feel it there between us, everything in the universe and yet at the same time – not a thing standing in our way.

It had been a few months, maybe a year, since the last time that I had slept with someone. Nothing intentional about it, sometimes that was just the way that things worked out. Even with the trauma in my past, I had pushed myself forward into having a healthy view of sex because of how necessary being comfortable with it was in my profession. There was no way to really survive and be successful if you didn't learn to compensate in some way. So I had. I had covered the painful memories with pleasure, used sex to heal some of the broken pieces inside of me, and pushed forward with the rest of my life. Even if I liked being in control, some broken part of me that I still hadn't been able to get rid of, falling into bed with a man didn't scare me anymore.

Especially when that man with Jackson.

When his lips pressed into mine again, nothing else in the world existed except the two of us and the lack of space between us. The kiss was enough to consume me entirely and I could taste the wine and tiramisu still on him, yet something distinct still beneath it. Arching my spine so that my hips and chest pressed into him, he bent down closer toward me, holding me more firmly than before. He could have taken me apart piece by piece and I would have let him do it without a thought. I could have done the exact same thing to him.

Warm hands find the small of my back, only further pushing the two of us together. I gripped onto his shirt to keep him pulled close to me, absorbing the warmth that he had to offer. Even a kiss from him was enough to send a shiver down my spine, electricity right to my core. It didn't seem to take very much for him to be able to excite me.

"April…" Jackson mumbled against my lips. It took every ounce of self-control in my body to pull away.

"Mmhm?" I questioned, slightly dazed.

"We don't have to rush this if you don't want to." His thumb stroked along my cheekbone.

"And what if I want to?" I looked up at him, wetting my lips.

Not another word was said between us. His hands slipped from my hips down to my thighs and in one motion, he picked me up and wrapped my legs around his waist. He moved quickly and with a clear destination in mind, taking me back to his bedroom. It was just as beautiful as the living room had been, but I can't take the time to admire it properly when he was the only thing that I wanted to focus on. My shirt was pulled off before he set me down on his bed.

"You are so goddamn beautiful," Jackson complimented.

His mouth covered my neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses that would undoubtedly leave marks to come in the morning. I arched my back off the bed, making haste to try and get all of the buttons of his shirt undone. Fingers fumbled slightly in their excitement, taking a few seconds longer than they should have before I was able to push it off of his shoulders.

Once his chest was bared to me, I ran my hands over his chest, seeking out his belt. I can already feel him hard and pressed against me, his hips rolling and giving just the perfect amount of friction against my core.

"I want you," I reminded him.

"I know."

I'm sat up for only a moment before the dress is pulled off of me and I'm left in nothing more than a thin bralette and seamless maroon underwear. Jackson pulled back and admired me for a few seconds before he pushed my bralette up and his mouth covered the entirety of my left breast. His tongue and teeth worked skillfully against my nipple until I'm a moaning mess, soaked through my panties when he finally gave the same teasing attention to its twin.

But all thoughts and sanity are lost when my panties are pulled off and his mouth covers my core, tongue touching every part of me, parts that I hadn't even realized existed so delightfully. I had gotten familiar with my body over the years, sure, and let men do the same – but none of that seemed to compare to what he was capable of doing with his moan between my legs. He was a giver and yet a teaser at the same time. It's a good thing we were so high up without any neighbors because there was no controlling the volume of the messy and incoherent noises and moans that slipped past my lips, crying out for him until my thighs were in a vice grip around his head. When my first orgasm hit me, his name doesn't leave my lips. Nothing other than a scrambled cry, a symphony of pure pleasure.

Seconds pass where I just lay there with my heart pounding in my chest, barely able to register the little kisses that he placed on the inside of my thigh. It takes time to garner the second wave of energy to keep going.

"You're something else, Princess." This time, a kiss just beneath my belly button.

"I want to ride you, Jackson." Not much of a request.

"Whatever you want."

He slid up the length of my body and kissed me again hard, an arm wrapping around my waist as he turned over and took me with him, laying on top of his chest. I fit on top of him comfortably and it was way too easy to feel him from this particular angle. He's big. Another thing way too easy to tell. That explained the Saxx underwear.

Sitting up, I scoot back to his thighs so that I have access to what I want. Pulling down the waistband of his boxers, his length comes red and stands tall. I wrapped my hand around the base of his shaft before bending down and licking the tip gently. His hips jerk the best that they can with my weight on top of his, letting out a tight-lipped groan as if he were trying to control himself. I do it again and listen to the sound that he makes, smirking. It's salacious and perfect. Blowing him was tempting and something to keep in mind for the future, but I had a one track mind. My hips lift up and I sink down onto his cock, tilting back my head and letting out a moan.

Hands find his and our fingers intertwine as I begin to move up and down along the length of his cock, finding a quick pace that every role of my hips works perfectly with. Minutes pass, feeling like seconds and hours at the same time. It hit that spot inside of me that was perfect and I could tell that he was enjoying it from the noises there, the little gasps and jerks that his hips gave, the tightness in which his hands clutched onto mine. His noises became more erratic and he let go of one hand, thumb rubbing circles across my clit. He was close. I was, too.

When he finished inside of me, a few more circles around the sensitive nub has me falling over the edge again, walls clenching around and taking everything from him. I collapse on top of him and he catches me so it doesn't hurt either of us, arms wrapping around me securely.

"That was amazing." Jackson pushed some hair out of my face, fingers stroking along my spine.

"I told you," I breathed out. "I like you."

"So, am I allowed to call you my girlfriend?" Fingers twirled in my hair.

"As long as it doesn't get out to the press." I smiled, kissing his shoulder.

Falling asleep that night was the best sleep that I had in years. I would get back into my career and the movie that we were making without having to worry about the harassment that might inevitably come. The tide of the press had seemed to turn in my direction. And now, I got to fall asleep in the arms of someone that I really, really liked.

When I wake up in the morning, I'm spread across the bed and taking up as much space as was physically possible with my tiny body, and I'm alone. Covers are practically pulled up to my neck. The bedroom door was open enough that it brought in the smell of bacon sizzling on the stove. I remembered what Jackson had told me. Breakfast food was the only thing he was good at cooking. At least this time of day, it was appropriate. Rolling over, I squinted at the clock and grabbed the phone from the nightstand.

It was his, not mine. There are furious texts from Harper and Catherine Avery, both blaming him for everything. I sighed.

But it's not the only notifications sitting on his phone and not the only ones related to me, either. Both of us had thought that last night was the two of us flying under the radar. We were supposed to be in California, after all. Who would think to look for us in New York City?  
_  
JACKSON AVERY AND APRIL KEPNER DATING?_

_APRIL KEPNER'S CLAIMS: ABOUT HARPER OR JACKSON?_  
  
That one made me sick. There was no way that I could stay in bed. Putting his phone back down, I ran into the bathroom and rinsed off my face, pushing my hair away from it. There's a robe laid out – I think it's for me and I take it, pulling it over my naked body before heading out to join him in the kitchen.

"Hi," I peeped out, sitting on one of the barstools.

"Good morning," Jackson greeted. "I hope you like waffles."

"I do." But it's hard to focus on that. "Did you uh, see the headlines? Because I think that things are about to get a lot harder. Harder than I thought they were going to be." All the predictions of the future hadn't included him. It had been shortsighted.

"No, lemme look," he patted his pockets. I handed him my phone, tapping on the news. A few seconds passed before he spoke up again. "Shit. I didn't think anyone would see us. I'm so sorry, April."

"It's okay, I'm not mad at you," I shook my head. "Don't apologize."

"I can't believe that they think this is some kind of ploy." Jackson shook his head. "What, am I supposed to be dating Amelia and whoever else is accusing him at the same time? That doesn't make sense."

I chewed at my lower lip. "It'll blow over. It has to, right? Once Amelia's kit gets tested."

"Of course, yeah."

Even with his reassurance, I could feel some of that panic beginning to build inside of me. Just beneath my sternum, it twisted inside of me and made its presence more than known. It felt like a black hole absorbing the rest of my organs and chest inside of it, sucking everything in with the absolute intent to destroy. It was good at doing that. I knew just how good it was. A deep, slow breath filled my lungs and it doesn't shake the hold that it had on me. Likely, nothing would.

"I'm not sure how to do this part." Slumping forward with both my arms folded on the counter, I rested on my chin on top of them and looked up at him. "I didn't plan this part."

"There's no clear guide for this kind of thing." He murmured, resting his own forearms on the counter.

"Yesterday it seemed like the world was on my side and today it seems like it thinks I'm a con."

"You're not a con," Jackson stated very clearly, dropping his head down so he could get my gaze. "You're not. I know that, and you know that. With all of the evidence coming forward, the rest of the world is going to know that too, okay? This is a bump along the road. And yeah, it's a pretty ugly and rough one, but it's one that you're going to get on the other side of. It's only been a few days. Of course, there's still going to be speculation on both sides. But you and I, we know the truth. Everyone who knows the truth is going to be here for you."

My lips pressed together, inhaling. "I really hope that you're right."

"I am." His confidence was somewhat reassuring. "I think now would be a good time to release the article. I'll email it to Amelia, make sure that she's good with it, and then send it in.

I nodded my head. "Yeah, hopefully, that'll help."

"We'll figure it out." Jackson turned his back to me, pulling a chocolate waffle from the maker and setting it down on a plate, handing it over to me. "How about a few more distractions, yeah?"

"Yes, please."

Even though I had been to New York City a few times here and there over the years, always short stints, I had never gotten to do all of the tourist traps and attractions that I would have liked to. Even if they were goofy, they were the kind of thing that I liked.

The Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, Central Park and the zoo located inside of it, Empire State Building – I'd seen pictures of all of them but never actually gotten to explore it until one. We go to the One World Trade Center and 9/11 Memorial, and I can't help but break down in tears. It had happened when I was thirteen and been perhaps the second most traumatic part of my formative years even though I hadn't actually experienced it myself. There was so much to do in the city that it does take my mind off of it, at least in the moments that we were able to avoid the press. Inside the buildings are usually safe from all of the security. The headlines don't stop about the two of us, but not every story takes such an aggressive stance against me.

When Jackson's opinion piece hits the New York Times, the tide does shift more toward the favor of Amelia and I. There was another surge of tweets online that I can't help but obsessively sift through. It sucks that sometimes it took a man's perspective to make two very established women more reliable but at this point… it didn't matter. Whatever it took.

One woman is enough to make all the difference, though.

I should have known that from the start.

Head down and rushing through Whole Foods to try and restock my refrigerator and pantry after the impromptu trip to New York and getting home again, I nearly run face first into another woman. The bottle of wine in the basket I'm carrying with my elbow rattled against the side of it with the flinch that I make. Even though I'm used to having no privacy, most people don't run into my quite so directly. Even if I startle easily, I try not to look at it.

"April Kepner?" It was a young woman addressing me, pale skin and dark hair. Her eyes stared at me wide as if she was seeing a ghost and not a real person. Not the usual reaction I got.

"Yeah," I nodded and gave a small smile. "Hi. Are you a fan?"

"I…" she seemed starstruck. Then suddenly, there are tears in her eyes.

"Oh, hey, it's okay." I shifted toward her and placed my hand on her shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.

"No, it's not that, it's–" she sniffed loudly, shaking her head and one hand coming up to wipe away a tear. "My name is Sawyer. Actually, I barely kept up with you. Celebrity stalking isn't my thing but uh, I saw that you came forward about Harper Avery. You and Amelia Shepherd. And someone else. And… I just want to tell you what that means to me. I finally was able to tell my parents about what happened to me."

Suddenly, it was my eyes welling with tears.

Taking a deep breath, I dropped down my basket suddenly and it's sheer luck that the wine bottle doesn't shatter into pieces. My arms wrapped around Sawyer and pulled her in tight even though she was just a little bit taller than I was, squeezing her so tight against me that my arms nearly shake from the exertion of my muscles.

"Thank you," she sobbed into my shoulder. A few tears slip past my own lids, unable to help it. "It's… it's been so hard but what you did was so inspiring. But god, it's so hard. It's so hard."

"You have been hurt by somebody, and you are hurting, but you will get through this. You can survive this. You are strong. It's okay. You are gonna be okay." My hand rubbed circles across the top of her back as I held her tight, letting her cry against me.

"Thank you so much." I held onto her for a few more minutes while she cried against me, squeezing my eyes shut. To anyone who walked by and saw the two of us just like that, they must have thought that we were crazy or some kind of tragedy had just happened – but this was the most genuine and heartfelt interaction that I had ever had with a fan. Ever. Nothing else even began to come close to the way that I felt right now, holding this young woman in my arms and knowing that going public had been able to give her some piece of hope and strength in her own life.

It doesn't fix what the news said, but it refocused me. It brought me back to my purpose.

Amelia is the first person I call after it happened. It was easy to tell that she was crying on the other side of the line even if she wasn't as loud or obvious about it, but I could still hear that choke of emotion in her voice when she thanked me for sharing it with her.

It takes two weeks for them to be able to find a new director for the project. I can't decide if it was too fast or not fast enough – on the one hand, it's easier to stay away from the press and media when I don't have to be out and about in the working world. But on the other hand, it's hard. Not watching the television, staying off my phone and computer as much as I can, avoiding going out in public… it was a little bit of cabin fever, even with Jackson's company and the mind-blowing sex that came along with it. It was hard not to go just a little bit crazy. But at least announcements about the movie gave me something else to focus on.

Miranda Bailey was the new pick. Her name rang a bell but I had to go onto her IMDB page to figure out where exactly I recognized her from. She had directed a few flicks before but nothing as big or as well-known as a Bond flick. This was going to be her first huge film to work on. But a skim through some of her work offered reassurance. She may not have been popular, but she seemed to be talented.

I read the opinion piece that he wrote so many times that I could recite it by memory. _The most real, honest person in the industry I've ever met._ That line gets me through a lot.

The water of my bath was so high and I had sunk so deep that it covered my chest entirely, chin resting on the thin bubbles that had dissipated on the top of the water. There was a half-empty glass of wine never to the candles that had the room smelling like apple cinnamon. It was zen, my happy place, even when I'm utterly alone. Nothing could disturb me except for one thing.

My phone ringing.

Groaning, I shook some droplets of water off of my hand before picking it up. "Hello?"

"Hi, April, it's Addison Montgomery." Her voice was familiar immediately and I sat up even though it chills my upper body. "Is now a good time to talk?" Well, not exactly, but I wouldn't say that.

"Yes, of course," I lied quickly, nodding my head as if she could see me.

"Great," she murmured. "I have some news about your case." I blinked in surprise, taking a deep breath.

"What is it?" I don't want to get too excited or defeated. It was an impossible line to walk.

"The prosecutor called me today. They've decided that they want to go forward with the case and press charges against Harper Avery. The rape kit was expedited given all of the media attention on the case and came back positive for his DNA. In conjunction with your audio recording, plus the testimonies of you, Amelia, and the anonymous woman who came forward… it's a very strong case built up against him." Addison explained out every detail of it.

My heart skipped a beat in my chest before it began to speed up, blinking in shock. I was silent for a few seconds as I tried to wrap my head around everything. "What– so what happens next?

"Arraignment in district court. The district court judge will read the charges and the defendant will be given the opportunity to plead. Bond will be set at this time. Sometimes no bond is set, or a very high bond is set, so that the perpetrator is forced to stay in jail. If the defendant is released the judge may order conditions of bond." I nodded along as she spoke. "This is all good news."

"Yes… God, yes, it's amazing. I don't even know what to say about it." I blurted out quickly with a smile breaking across my face. There had been no guarantee either way, but it felt as if the universe had smiled upon me. "Thank you so much, for everything."

"You don't need to thank me. This is my job and I am proud to do it for you. Have a good night, April."

Hanging up the phone, I can't decide if I was more relaxed than before or more excited than I had ever been in my life. Dipping my head half under the water to get suds out of my hair, I set down my phone and get out of the tub, drying off my body mostly and wrapping the towel around my frame. I had to do something. I didn't know what but I couldn't just sit here or relax in the bath. This was too much. My body was buzzing, ignited with brand new energy. Something had to be done about it and I knew exactly where I wanted to go with it.

Slipping on a black camisole and putting on a pair of jeans, I grab a jacket and put on it, getting my phone off the counter. My hair was wet and dripping on my jacket, face completely bare from makeup and a little red from the warmth of the bathtub, I get in my car and drive to Jackson's house with hesitation. I give a quick call, but he doesn't answer.

The drive is short as always and its dark outside at the time of night. There were still three more days before filming would begin to resume. Well, two, not including today. We had a little time left before we had to get back into character again.

I parked my car and get out, practically running up to his door and ringing the doorbell. My weight shifted back and forth between each hip as I waited impatiently for him to answer. When the door finally swung open and revealed someone on the other side, it wasn't who I was expecting it to be. Instead, it's another woman with naturally curly hair staring at me, clearly confused as to why I was there.

"Uh– I'm here for Jackson," I questioned, my eyebrows raising up skeptically.

"Oh." She returned over her shoulder, calling out his name. "Sorry, I'm Maggie. Come in."

"Okay…" I mumbled, wetting my lips as I stepped inside.

To my relief, it only took him a moment to appear. He looked tired. "April." Exhaustion quickly turned to surprise and even, perhaps, mild panic. "Sorry, I didn't realize that you were coming over."

"I called but you didn't answer," I explained, glancing between them. "Sorry, I didn't realize I was interrupting."

"Maggie was just on her way out, actually," Jackson said, shooting her a look I didn't understand.

"Right," she grumbled. "I'm sure I'll see you again soon, Mr. Avery."

The door slammed on her way out. I stared at the shut door for a moment. My head was already spinning with a hopefully ridiculous solution for why there was some strange woman answering his door, one that he had ignored my call for. I hated where my brain went first. It was rooted in my own insecurity more than anything else, more than the way that I knew him. Panicking wasn't going to do either one of us any good and it would be ridiculous. He was my boyfriend and I was his girlfriend, exclusivity was assumed with that. He had proved himself to be nothing other than a fantastic man and to jump to a silly conclusion just from one moment was not fair to either one of us. I didn't need to do that. It was just a part of my brain that I needed to shut down, or at least learn not to let it control my thought processes and actions.

"Who was that?" I asked, trying not to sound snippy.

"Maggie Pierce," he sighed out, his hand running over his curls. "She is Harper's lawyer and my mother's husband's daughter. My step-sister but I rarely ever see her. You guys have something in common, though, I guess. You both came over here uninvited."

An awkward laugh came out. "Oh. Oh, okay. Sorry, I got a little spazzy when she opened the door like that and acted as if she belonged here too."

"I wouldn't do something like that to you." He countered.

Stepping forward, Jackson leaned down and closed the distance between us, cupping my face gently between both of his large hands and planting a firm kiss on my lips. There was some reassurance even in the most basic form of intimacy there between us, a reminder that he wanted me and that he liked me. That he was my boyfriend, even if it was something that the two of us had been keeping quiet for the past two weeks. Dates were a bit hard, proper ones at least, with keeping away from the public eye. But there was no doubt in my mind that the feelings between the two of us were very, very real.

"I am very happy that you're my girlfriend," Jackson said sweetly. "And I have no intent on screwing that up or screwing you over. All of the screwings in our life is going to be the sexy kind. I promise." One more kiss, this one short and chaste.

"I like that reassurance." The chuckle that left my lips this time was considerably more genuine.

"What is this impromptu visit all about, huh?" He smiled before teasing me. "Just miss me that much?"

"Mm, yes and no," I smiled back at him. My hand reached for his and our fingers intertwined naturally as he tugged me over toward the living room. "I actually got a call from Addison today, delivering some very, very good news." It sounded a little braggadocio but I don't mind.

His eyebrows shot up and wrinkled his forehead. "I'm guessing it's the news that I just heard." Oh, yeah. Probably.

"The prosecutor is moving forward with pressing charges against Harper," I announced proudly.

"Maggie told me," he nodded.

"This is great. That means there's a chance, Jackson. There's a real chance that something could happen. That we could get justice." My hands sling out as I speak excitedly, nearly hitting him on accident. I laugh, stepping back and shaking my head at myself. "I mean, it's also going to be a nightmare. It would be a dream come true if he just accepted what he had done and found enough of a conscious to take some kind of plea bargain, and not put me and Amelia and whoever else through all the hell that's going to come with the trial. I don't expect that to happen. But… I don't know. It's still a thought somehow." I shrugged.

Jackson fell silent briefly, presumably thinking about everything that I was saying. I tried not to dance back and forth too much, giving him a chance to speak without me interrupting. But after a few seconds, I have to speak, unable to keep my thoughts from spilling over again.

"Even if a trial is going to be terrible to go through… this is such good news. So many women don't even get to this point."

"Yeah," he finally spoke. "Yeah. This is great news."

"Babe…" I started, tilting my head at him. "Is there something wrong? Something else going on?"

"No, no, not at all," he shook his head. "I'm just processing everything, don't worry. There's nothing wrong. I'm happy for you and Amelia. I am." A more genuine smile came upon his features. "How about I break out some champagne, you spend the night, and the two of us celebrate?"

"Oh, hell yes."


	8. Chapter 8

**_ JACKSON _ **

It's either the best or worst idea that I've had.

Filming for _Terminal_ had started again and I wasn't needed until the third day of it. April was on set and been texting me updates about how it was going – it seemed like she really enjoyed having the new director, Miranda Bailey, compared to my grandfather. I couldn't blame her. Plus, it did make some sense to have a female director for the first female James Bond. It was huge to have a black woman doing it. I knew that April had fixated on the female part, but it was important too that she was black.

But just because I wasn't needed on the set yet didn't mean that I was sitting on my ass. Neither my mother nor my grandfather had backed off with their constant harassment about what was going on. My mother had backed off with blaming me just a bit but Harper certainly had not. He was set on making his actions out to be my fault.

No courtesy of a heads up is given to him and I wasn't even entirely sure that I gave one to myself. If I was going to do it, then I needed to go through with it and I wouldn't hesitate. I just had to act.

I was angry. When I had first heard the recording playing on April's computer, I thought that was the angriest that I was capable of getting, that there would be no rage fresher than what I had experienced at the moment. It turned out, I had underestimated myself. Getting pissed off and aggressive was something that I generally wanted to avoid – it reminded me just a little too much of Harper growing up, and yet, it seemed as if I had inherited that from him whether I wanted to or not. The rage was there. Unfiltered, but not buried. It was hard to decide if that made it more or less dangerous. It wasn't going away, not any time soon. Instead, it was just seeking an outlet, and I had already decided on it. It was coming out. Appropriate or not, well, I had too much bias to be able to determine that. But at least it was coming out at a target that more than deserved it.

Showing up in the middle of the day at his house, there were a few texts from mom mother that I hadn't replied to. She wanted to talk to me about the article that I had sent out to the New York Times that pretty much everyone in the business had talked about. It had nothing to do with my actual writing and everything to do with the content that I contained – which was exactly what I wanted. It had given a fresh wave of belief for April and Amelia and knocked Harper down another peg. Maggie and April's words can't get out of my head, though. It's hard to focus on the good.

My umbrella is shut and tossed down on the porch. On his doorstep, my fist slammed against the front of it a few times to alert to him to my presence. It's an annoyingly long wait to have to stand there, rain pouring down around me. It was loud, the crack of thunder that came seconds after my knock seeming to fit. The door finally opened, but it wasn't Harper. It was his housekeeper, of course.

"Is he in?" I asked quickly.

"Yes, Mr. Avery," Melinda answered with a nod. "He's in his study. May I take your coat?"

"No, it's fine." I brushed her off unintentionally, moving past her and carrying through the house.

Though some time had been spent in this household as a child, I don't have any happy memories here. I can think about Maggie's words. They were ready to come forward slut-shaming April and Amelia with their past relationships, they were going to hit Amelia hard about her history of drugs, and claim that April was using this as another climb to fame. That was why Maggie had been at my place in the first place. She had been giving me one last chance to break up with her before they dragged me down with her, too, as the disgruntled grandson.

I should have told April that. Maybe I would have if she hadn't come over with such a bright smile on her face and acting as if there wasn't a thing in the world that could knock her down. I didn't want to break her like that, so I had lied. If I wanted to, I could argue that I was protecting her, but that wasn't the real truth. It had just been easier for me.

Reaching his office door, it was shut. I should knock – that would have been the polite thing to do, but I don't. Instead, I twist the knob and give it a good shove up, letting it fly open and slam against the inner wall.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Harper barked at me.

"I should be asking you that," I countered.

"Why are you here, Jackson?" He leaned back in his chair and glared at me, daggers threatening to split me open.

"A court date was set for the trial." Obviously, he already knew that. "Are you going to do the right thing for once in your life?"

He snorted. "And what would you have me do? Your life has been built off of me and your mother doing what is best for the family and no one else. I hope you don't expect that to change now when you've benefitted so much from it." My jaw tightened.

"You know what you did." My palms flattened against the outside of my thighs. "Just admit it. Face the consequences of your actions instead of sitting inside of this privileged bubble."

"I know what I did, yes. I took what I wanted. But do you really think you don't live in the same place?" He questioned.

"I'm not like you." I spat out.

"You can think whatever you want but you're just like me. Everything in your life has been served to you in a silver platter. Princeton? Do you really think that you would've gotten into that school if it wasn't for my name and my money? It's the same with your pathetic little career as a photographer. You have what you have because of me and nothing else. Even your little girlfriend. She wouldn't look at you twice if it weren't for the fact that she's just using you to get at me." Every sneering word that left his mouth made me want to slam him into the wall.

"None of that stuff is even remotely near the same!" My hand swung out as I spoke. "How can you even begin to draw a comparison between that and the fact that you've been sexually harassing and assaulting women for years?"

"You want to talk about privilege, there you have it." He shrugged off nonchalantly.

A deep inhale was drawn through my nose, trying to calm myself down. This wasn't the thing that I wanted to argue with him about, it wasn't why I had come over here – even though I knew that reason, too, would undoubtedly start another argument between us.

"You're going to do the right thing. Show up to court and plead guilty, and take whatever sentence they give you." I demanded of him firmly, straightening my spine.

"And why the hell would I do that?" He laughed.

"Because if you don't, I'm going to make sure that you lose everything." A simple threat. "You're going to trial, to jail, one way or another. The public has already made up their mind and they're not on your side. I will make your life a living hell. No one will ever work for you again. No one will ever come near you again. So right now, you have two options. Take the plea deal and live comfortably in jail, then when you get out, disappear and die in luxury. Or don't take the plea, get a harsher sentence, and I'll make sure that you die there with nothing." I paused, taking a break. "I'm sure it won't be hard to find someone in jail who had a crush on Amelia or April. A little money and they'll be happy to make sure that you don't hurt anyone else ever again."

Silence settled thickly in the air between us as he stared up at me, eyes dark with the rage there. Perhaps it finally matched my own. But I couldn't muster up any ounce of sympathy. He had dug his own grave and it was his time to lie in it. Consequences were rare for men of his size and stature, but I wanted to make sure that wasn't the situation any longer.

"You don't mean that. You have everything because of me." Finally, he broke the silence.

"I do."

"I'll remove you from the will." A threat of his own.

"I don't care. Do it."

A few more tense moments passed as we stared one another down, trying to figure out which one of us would cave first. It would be him. Truthfully, I had nothing to lose in this situation. Money was the only thing that he could attempt to leverage against me and I had never cared about it in the same way that he had. Happiness was more important to me. Harper was proof that money did not bring that.

"Die miserably, or serve your time. It's your choice." My arms folded in front of my chest. "Your reputation is ruined either way. Showing some guilt might be the only thing that repairs it."

"There's only one way that I'll consider that." He stated, straightening up.

"What?"

"I want you gone from this family and this name. Not another dollar of Avery money is going to be spent by you. I'll bury it underground to rot before I let you have another damn dime of it."

I scoffed. "Easy. Done." Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my phone and showed it to him. "And if you go back, well, I just recorded you admitting your guilt. I'm sure the media will love that even more than what April recorded."

So it was blackmail.

Of course, in a way, it went both ways. I was coercing him into doing the right thing with the threat of revealing the truth and he was demanding money from me to prevent the reveal of the compromising information. But was it really so sinful when it was for the right cause?

Harper makes sure to walk me back down to the front door himself and I hear it slam with all of the force that the old man was capable of mustering up behind me. It was still storming outside. Picking up my umbrella from where I had left it, I hurried over to my car and got in, sitting back in it. I had just thrown out the entire life that I knew for blackmail. Blackmail was illegal, too. I didn't know the consequences of it, but I knew that it was. I had never wanted to sink low enough to become as manipulative as he and my mother had been my entire life, yet here I was, in the sewers with both of them.

_[Sent] I miss you._

The three-word text to April does make me feel a little bit better. It's a big truth and I'm not sure whether or not that it's one I can tell her. If I do, it can't be until after the arraignment, I knew that much. I wasn't sure what kind of effect it would have on her. Lying to her didn't feel good, certainly. Lying was necessary to the good function of society. The adage that said it was always wrong was a load of crap. This was one of those scenarios.

Yet despite that, the next time that I see her, it was easier to bury the truth down and not mention the fact that I had gone to visit him. The arraignment was still a few days out and she had been worrying about it nonstop. Even if it should have hopefully stopped her worrying, I knew that it would have her worried about me. Money was something that I had lived with my whole life and that was going to be quickly turned around. I'd have to learn to live humbly. I had money of my own, I'd be able to get by for a while just off of that, things would have to change. That could wait a little while longer.

"Let's get everyone in their places, please!" Miranda Bailey's hands clapped together, demanding attention.

"Roll sound!" Meredith yelled.

Miranda was a much more productive director than Harper had been. We flew through the scenes and it seemed as if we were never waiting on her, but always the opposite. She was plowing through the movie like nothing else, scene after scene flying through. And I had only worked with her for three days now.

Reshooting the sex scene was marvelously more comfortable for April, but for me? It's a little harder to fight my own arousal because I knew what she was like and I knew how good she was. It's different with her beneath me given the way that she lied to take charge in the bedroom. I'd never been with anyone like that, not more than for one night, at least. I hadn't thought that it would be something I was into – but hell yeah, I definitely was.

"Babe," I called out to her once the last scene of the day was done, hand finding her back pocket.

"Shhh," April hushed me, squirming away and turning toward me. "We're still in public."

My eyes rolled though I smiled. "Alright, alright," I backed off. "Do you want to go and get some dinner? I was thinking we could get some takeout. Thai or Chinese, whatever you want."

"Mm, Chinese. You can make fun of me all you want for being basic but some orange chicken sounds so good right now. Ugh, and those crab rangoons – I can't believe that you got me hooked on those, they are delicious." There was a little delirious smile on her lips. She was tired but still adorable.

"Your wish is my command." I glanced around, making sure no one was watching before bending down and giving her a quick kiss. "Do you want to meet by my car?"

"How about yours? We can go to your place. I'm redoing my kitchen floors." April suggested.

"Yeah, sure," I nodded. "That's fine. See you in a few."

I beat her to my car predictably, leaning against the outside of it and scrolling through my phone. Twitter was in a lull about the two of us, fortunately. They would spike up again once the arraignment occurred and Harper presumably kept his word about pleading guilty and taking the deal. There would be some predictable anger but it would all come out to our favor in the end. It had to. He would be in jail and she, Amelia, and all of the others would be free. They wouldn't have to go through a trial and all of the agonies that would come with reliving their experiences again.

My wait for her to appear isn't a long one and we call and order before leaving the parking lot, picking up our dinner on the way back home to my house. She does most of the talking in the car. Most of the time, it was more balanced, but I find myself choking on anything that I wanted to say as she talked about what was coming up. It's wrong to lie to her, but the truth was wrong, too. A tough balance.

The opportunity to shield her from the truth, however, was limited.

Opening up the door for her with one hand and carrying the food in the other, April went about her usual business upon entering any place. She always liked to poke around and see what was going on before she settled in. Some people might have found it nosy but I had always thought that it was an endearing little trait of hers. Until now.

"Hey, Jackson?" April called out. "What is all this?"

I followed the sound of her voice to my dining room where I had begun to go through the China plates to sell them. If I was going to sacrifice one of my homes, it wouldn't be in New York. That was exactly what she had found.

"Are you moving, or something?" She asked once her eyes landed on me.

"Uh…" Shit, I'd completely forgotten that this was all out when I had agreed to her coming here. "I– it's complicated." A bad attempt of an answer, wetting my lips and trying to buy a few more seconds to think and come up with something better.

"Complicated?" April blinked at me. "What does that mean?"

"I uh, I might be moving, yeah. I'm probably selling this place." My weight shifted between each foot. "I've always preferred living in New York. Makes me a lot happier than California ever has and I feel at home there." Even if this was where I had grown up, I still mangled to prefer the opposite side of the country.

Her brows furrowed. "When? Were you going to tell me?"

"Of course, I was going to tell you," I stepped toward her. "I'm just a little up in the air about it, okay? It's a lot happening right now and I didn't want to overwhelm you. I thought it'd just be better to… not." Yet coming out of my mouth, I realize exactly how bad the words sound. Shit.

"And?" Her face would have been funny had the situation not been serious. "Is that all you're going to say?"

"I'm sorry." I didn't have much else.

"This is kind of a big deal, Jackson!" April's voice cracked as it rose. "You made this big decision and you didn't even think to ask me, let alone tell me up until I actually find you in the process of already doing. I've been depending on you. You know that I've been depending on you. That's not fair. You know that's not fair!"

"You're right. You're completely right, and I'm sorry." I tried to place my hand on her shoulder but she flinched away from the touch. "Listen, I really am sorry, April. I screwed up and I should have talked to you first, you're completely right. But let's talk about this, okay? We can talk about it."

"I don't even know if I want to talk to you right now." She shook her head.

I sighed. "April, please, this is something that we do need to talk about," I pleaded with her. "You're right. It's a big thing and it's important, and therefore, we need to sit down and talk about it, okay? So let's do that. We've got dinner. Let's sit down and eat and talk about it."

She stared up at me with wide eyes and I can't tell if she was angry or sad. For a few moments, I was worried that she was just going to storm out and not give me a chance to try and explain what was going on – or at least, come up with something that sounded better than what I had been attempting to tell her. But she walked past me with sudden haste, heading straight toward the kitchen and unpacking the takeout that we had picked up. I breathed out with relief and followed her, helping to get the plates set up and glasses of water on the table.

"You don't like your grandfather, do you?" April asked me once we were seated.

"No, I don't," I answered

"Is that why you've been so supportive with everything going on? With understanding the truth? Does it just… satisfy this vendetta that you've had against him over the years or something?" The questions continued. Neither one of us touched our food.

"No, no! This has nothing to do with that, April, I swear. Nothing. I believe you because you're you. I believe you're telling the truth. There's no kind of ulterior motive, okay? It just is what it is. I believe you. I believe Amelia. I believe whoever that anonymous woman is. I believe all of you because it's the right thing to do. Nothing more, nothing less." I rambled out.

"I…" She sighed, her elbows resting on the table. "Do you understand why I'm reacting the way that I am right now?"

"I do." I nodded quickly, repeating myself. "I do. And I'm sorry. I really did plan on telling you about this when it was the right time. I didn't want to put anything more on your plane between now and the arraignment. I'm sorry. I did make a decision that… I should have talked to about first and I can't really just explain that away." I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "I fucked up." In more ways than what she just knew about.

"You did."

The two of us sat in silence, staring at one another across the table for what felt like hours. I had apologized and I had meant it. My fork pushed through the kung pao chicken and rice on my plate, but I don't eat any of it. The appetite that I had worked up through a day of filming had disappeared. Even when it began to come back again, the disappointed look in her eyes was enough to make it retreat away once again. Disappointing her was the last thing that I had wanted to do. Yet she already was, without knowing the entire truth. What the hell was going to happen when she did?

"I forgive you," April finally said. "So long as you promise to never lie to me like that again."

Well, fuck.

"I, uh…" I sighed. "I can't make that promise. Not for a few days." Spare her from one more lie.

"What does that mean?" She questioned sharply.

I glanced away and inhaled deeply. "I'm sorry, April. I just need a few days before I can explain all of this to you, okay? I… if I'm wrong, I don't want to get your hopes up and see it all be completely ruined for you. I promise this will make sense to you in a few days. Just… after the arraignment." Pleading with her, hoping for some kind of mercy.

"I don't even know what to say to you right now." She gaped at me. "You're… you're going back and forth and I literally have no idea what's going on inside of your head right now, Jackson. And you're not letting me."

If I had been able to trust that Harper would go through with it, I would have told her. But that trust wasn't there. I knew that Maggie would try to convince him to take it trial and fight it in whatever way that she could – if she could pull it off with all of the evidence that was stacked against him, then it would have made her a damn good lawyer. There was no denying that. She'd always been the type of person who had something to prove, trying to rev up her ego and prove that she was the best constantly. This was just like her, to take some impossible case regardless the morals. She'd tried to sleep with me once, citing that we weren't really related. I knew things are a blur for her.

"I'm sorry." I apologized again, unsure of what else to say.

"Well, if that's it…" The chair screeched against my floors as she stood up suddenly. "Then I don't think we need to be seeing each other right now. Not until you can be honest with me."

No matter how reasonable the request might have been, my instinct is to reject it.

"I'm sorry." Instead, repeating myself was all I was capable of.

This time, it was the front door of my house being slammed shut by her.

After she was gone and the seat across from me at the table was empty, I sit there without moving or touching the food for a while. Eventually, I get up and pack it away into the fridge. Normally leftovers weren't my thing. But she had told me once she liked leftovers and something about remembering it was enough to make me do it.

The next few days drag on. It's nothing more than sheer luck that neither one of us had to film together. Even if she was a professional, I wasn't sure that I would have been capable of keeping a straight face. Or at the very least, not taking advantage of every single moment that the cameras were off to try and talk to her about what was going on between us. Having nothing to do other than pack up the house and make arrangements only makes me think of her – every shut and taped box coming with another ounce of guilt stacked on top. Nothing that I could do on my own would shake it. I had to talk to her and tell her the truth. There was no way around it. It was just a matter of presenting it to her in a way that didn't ruin things, or at the very least, didn't make things even worse between us.

Convincing her over text to let me come to the arraignment hearing is a little easier than I thought it would be. I knew that she and Amelia would both be there, for themselves and for each other, but I thought that they would want an extra level of support. Honestly, even if she hadn't, I probably would. Either under the guise of being there to support Amelia or just to show up. There was no way that I could leave her relatively alone there.

When my grandfather set his eyes on me, he doesn't say a word and turned away. But my mother does the opposite. She stared at me for a long moment before she finally walked over to me and wrapped her arms around me. I stiffened in surprise.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I am proud of you, Jackson Avery." Mom said before pulling back. "I am proud of you for being a better man than I or your grandfather raised you to be. Harper told me about the… deal that the two of you made."

This was the absolute last thing that I expected today. "So you believe them now?" I questioned.

"I do. And I feel terrible for not believing all of you sooner. We will figure this out." She squeezed my shoulder.

"I already did."

Swallowing everything else and without another word, I walked past her and into the courtroom. I would forgive her, ultimately, I knew that. It would take a day or two because of all of the bad press that she had no doubt contributed to, both about April and Amelia, but about myself, too. A few days and knowing that Harper was behind bars would make it a lot easier to get past all of this with her.

Harper was already in the room and with his lawyer. April and Amelia were too, with another redheaded woman who I assumed is Addison. I tried to say hi to both of them and only Amelia turned back toward me, giving me a small wave and smile. I sat down in the second row behind both of them, wanting to put a little distance between April and me to try and keep her comfortable. It was hard to do that. I wanted to hug her at the very least, to rub her back and remind her that everything was going to be fine. But right now, she didn't know that and I did. That didn't seem fair. I should have told her sooner. I really should have – that would have saved from screwing things up with her in the first place.

When the judge came in, everyone stood up immediately. It's hard to focus on everything that she was saying, reading off the details of the case. I can barely keep my eyes open, hands curling into fists. She had to forgive me. I didn't know what I was going to do if she didn't forgive me. I couldn't screw up something so good. She was the first really good thing that I had in a long, long time. I couldn't let that get thrown away over a stubborn mistake, certainly not over one about my fuck up of a grandfather.

"Mr. Avery, how do you plead?" The judge asked.

A long pause passed. "Guilty."

I let go of the breath that I was holding onto, and I hear April cry out with relief. Everything else flew by quickly. For all three of the charges pressed against him, it was eight years in prison and paying for April and Amelia's legal fees. Given his age, that might as well have been the rest of his life. It wasn't quite as minute as it might have otherwise sounded.

"Court dismissed." The gavel banged.

Standing there and watching my grandfather get cuffs put on his wrists and walked out of the courtroom, I let out a sigh of relief. I don't realize that the rest of the world is still moving around me until Amelia came up to me, slapping me on the arm lightly before giving me a side hug.

"I can't believe that we actually did it," Amelia confessed. I placed my hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"It's what you guys deserve." I glanced at April as she walked over. "What both of you deserve."

"Thanks for showing up here today." Amelia continued.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," I shrugged my shoulders. "You should know that by now."

April cleared her throat and finally looked up at me before speaking. "It does mean a lot that you showed up today." It was incredibly more reassuring to hear that from her. "Amelia, do you think that we could have a moment alone to talk?" She requested, turning toward the brunette with raised eyebrows. It took only a moment for her to laugh and nod her head.

"Yeah, sure. You two lovebirds do whatever you want." She smirked at the both of us before giving a little wave of her fingers and walking away, catching up with Addison.

"She knows and yet she doesn't…" I remarked, half under my breath.

"Let's go somewhere quiet," April suggested.

The courtroom and outside of it were going to be undoubtedly loud between the people who actually need to be there, and all of the press that was trying to get the news about what had gone down, always wanting to be the first to tweet what had happened. We headed down the hallway, taking a sharp and sudden turn to the left when we see the press. There was a janitor closet that was unlocked and somehow, that was where we end up inside of. I turned on the lights, leaning back against the shut door and looking down at her.

"You came," she started slowly. "I assume that means that you're ready to talk now." Her eyebrows shot up with the suggestion. It was true, even if I still wasn't sure how to go about it.

"I am, I just…" I sighed. "I don't know how you're going to react when I tell you."

"So?" Her eyebrows shot up, almost as if she were mocking me. "Just tell me!"

"Harper wasn't going to plead guilty." I took a deep breath. "When Maggie came over? She told me that he already had a plan and they were going to take you and Amelia down in the public eye. I didn't tell you then because I didn't want to ruin the moment for you. Amelia's drinking problems, they were going to make you out to be some honey-hungry slut. I couldn't let them do that. So… I blackmailed him into telling the truth. Threatened him with a, uh, a lot of different things." I sighed. "That's why I was packing up. He said that he would only do it if I never had another ounce of Avery money again which means that I need to change my current living situation in order to accommodate for that."

Wide, hazel eyes stared at me blankly as she processed the information. There was nothing left that I was holding back. I couldn't keep lying to her – I had promised after a few days, she would get the truth, and that was a promise that I intended on keeping even if it didn't make either one of our lives any easier.

"So you really blackmailed him into doing the right thing? And he… bribed you back by taking everything from you?" She questioned.

I nodded my head. "Yeah."

"I… I don't even know what to say." April wet her lips and glanced away. "I trusted you. I trusted you because I thought that you were a good person who wouldn't get involved with… all of the kind of shit that goes on in this industry and that comes with money. And a part of that is blackmailing people. Using money or whatever else to your advantage. But you're telling me that's exactly what you did."

"Yeah, I am. And I'd do it again if it got the same result. I really would. You know why? Because I care about you, April. I want you to be safe. I want you to feel safe. I can understand why this might be upsetting for you, but… I don't regret it. Not one bit." I might as well be completely honest with her now.

"I don't know what to say." She admitted after a few seconds had passed.

"You don't have to say anything right now," I tucked my hands into the pockets of my jacket. "But I am being more honest than I have been in my entire life when I say that I care about you."

"I care about you too, I just… I wish you had let me go through this the right way. I don't need you to protect me."

"I know that you can protect yourself," I spoke quickly. "And I trust you. But I don't trust the system."

Her arms folded in front of her ribcage and her gaze subverted to the floor. "I'm still not sure what to say right now," she murmured. "I just… I need some time to think about this, okay? I want to wrap my head around you doing that, and the fact that… he actually went through with it. I need to think without you standing in front of me. Because standing here, looking at you, right now, all I want to do is kiss you. And that is very distracting for me."

"Well, day after tomorrow, we're filming together." There was no filming tomorrow after the trial, a precaution that had been taken no matter what way all of it ended up playing out. "How about we can talk after work then? And if that's too soon, you just tell me."

"Okay," April took a deep breath and sighed. "I'll see you at work, Jackson."

I watched her go without saying another word, hoping it was the right decision.


	9. Chapter 9

**_ APRIL _ **

I felt free. But freedom was exhausting.

Harper Avery was behind bars. The fact that he had pleaded guilty instead of letting things go to trial had turned the public in my and Amelia's favor. That was the probably the only kind of affirmation that we could get from him, the truth coming from his mouth. He was guilty. Even if he didn't feel enough remorse for his actions and had to be blackmailed into going away for what he had done… he had gone away. If he didn't feel guilty now, then surely, he would begin to feel something after the next eight years were spent in prison.

Work kept going no matter what, though, giving me a schedule and purpose to focus on through each day. It keeps me balanced. Plus, it was a proper chance and excuse to get out of my head. Focusing on Jane and her life means that I don't have to focus on my own while the cameras are on and a little bit on either end, too. Her life was fierce and badass, no matter what obstacle came in her way, she overcame it. She faced pain and tragedy and always came out on the other side of it even stronger than she was before. Everything made her stronger. Those were some principals that I needed to bring into my life. Maybe it would make the fight, or disagreement, or whatever it was that I was having with Jackson easier to handle. My problems compared to hers certainly didn't seem like a big deal. Mine weren't terrorist or world-threatening problems, fortunately. Mine were just personal problems.

Of course, reducing my problems with a reality check doesn't fix or change a single thing about them. They were still there. Still a complete pain in the ass. I was going to have to find a way to fix it. The feelings for Jackson were still there even if it was all clouded by confusion. I had trusted him but it didn't feel like he had trusted me. Sure, he had said it was the system… but it felt like something personal. That was the part I couldn't get past.

"What's your deal today, Kepner?" Jo asked, tugging lightly at my hair as she combed through it. "I thought you'd be over the moon."

Even if it clearly didn't show in the reflection looking back at the both of us in the mirror, I was happy. But I was worried about filming with Jackson and possibly talking to him after work. I was worried today wouldn't go well.

"I'm fine," I tried to lie. Apparently, I wasn't good at acting like myself.

"I thought you'd be a better liar," Jo remarked as she pulled out the flat iron. "Because the crap you just gave me? That was a D-list lie right there. Something's wrong with you. Does it have to do with your boy toy?"

"He's not my boy toy." I snipped at her defensively.

"Oh, please April, I can see right through the both of you." Her eyes rolled.

I sighed. "Okay. Fine. Maybe it has a little to do with him. Things are just kind of… messy right now and it's a mess that I'm not sure I know how to get out of." I chewed at the inside of my cheek. "What does it mean when you do the wrong thing for the right reason for someone? Is it still a bad thing? Is it punishable? And what if it's to protect that someone?"

"There we go," she clucked her tongue. "That's what I thought. But come on, be real with yourself. Have you seen the way that he looks at you? It's clear that he loves you, April. If he screws up, it's probably just because men are inherently stupid, especially when it comes to women that they love."

I gave a dry laugh. "I want to be mad but at the same time, I feel like I have no right to be mad. Which makes me more mad instead of helping me cool off."

"You're allowed to feel however you want to feel." She stopped messing with my hair for a moment, placing her hands on her hips and looking at me firmly in the mirror. "No one can take away how you feel from you. Trust me, I have been in some really, really shitty relationships in the past. None of those guys looked at me like that or tried to protect me so much that it made me mad. Whatever's going on between the two of you, it sounds like it's something worth fixing. You just need to remind him how badass you are. Give him that reminder."

"Maybe." A heavy sigh came out and I sank down further in my chair. "I just don't know how to go about that. I've been in… normal relationships before, sure, but I've never had this kind of problem before." Extenuating circumstances aside.

"That's probably just because you're obviously madly in love with each other," Jo smirked. "You two are hot together."

I smiled and shook my head. "You think so?"

"Damn right," she chuckled. "That sex scene? That's going to go in the wank bank for so many."

"Ew!" Despite the protest, I let out a real laugh and shook my head. "Don't be so crude."

Even if Jo hadn't exactly offered a perfect solution to the problem on my plate, it does give some much needed perspective and she made sure that I walked out of my trailer with a real smile on my face instead of the one that I had been faking my way through this morning. Some of the weight on my shoulders was gone even if I needed to shift from being myself into being Jane again. It was a big scene between my character and Jackson's character today – I was saving him. It was a badass scene that showed Jane didn't need any protecting. If only I could figure out how to translate that over to our lives.

But setting my eyes on him is an instant distraction. It's not one that I can turn away from, either, just one that I have to learn to try and live with instead. No amount of mindful meditation was going to make it easier, either. I needed to learn to suck it up.

The set was still having its last bits and pieces set up. My chair was next to his. I took a deep breath as I walked over toward it without making eye contact with him, slowly sinking down into it next to him. I'm not mad, not anymore. I had gotten past that stage of my feelings. Mostly, I'm just confused. The fact that it hadn't happened the right way made it a bit harder to feel celebratory about everything.

Mad just wasn't right. Confused was barely right. Jo had been right – I needed to just feel it and accept it for what it was, instead of pushing it down. That would make all of it easier to handle.

"Hey," Jackson greeted me.

"Hi," I breathed out, wetting my lips. "Are you ready to film?" There was a different question loaded there.

"Yeah." From my periphery, I can see him nod. "Are you?"

"I think so."

Tonight, we would talk.

The remainder of the set was all in place a few minutes later. The silence that we sit in isn't entirely uncomfortable though there was certainly something there, lingering in the air between us. Usually, there was some kind of electricity, a sexual tension that couldn't be denied. But this was much bigger than that – much heavier and nowhere near as fun.

"Let's get the actors in place, please," Meredith called out.

Turning my head to give him just a brief smile, a great effort is made to try and get out of my own head and into Jane's mindset. But in a way now more revealing than ever, some of our issues and worries seem to overlap. Both of us were worried about the state of our relationship with the other after a life-changing event. She was worried about protecting Richard and I existed on the other end of the spectrum, worried about being protected and the kind of negative effect that it could have.

Maybe the real problem was that I had never learned to let people take care of me.

My parents were supposed to do that, they were supposed to be the first ones to teach me that. Maybe when I was little, they had. They had made sure that I was fed and had clean clothes to go to school in, all of those basic things that parents were supposed to do as long as money allowed for it. We weren't well-off, but we had enough for them to be able to do that. The problems had come in my teen years, as I had drifted away from the Kepner family mantras. Instead of trying to teach me why they were the way they were, to protect me from the harsh realities of the real world, they threw me under the bus. I became the enemy. My two younger sisters had been taught to look at me as an example of what not to do.

And when things had gone so fiercely wrong, when I had been slapped in the face with what the world would do to a young, pretty girl who didn't know any better, they hadn't been there, either. Instead, the lesson that they had taught me was that I couldn't trust anyone else to take care of me. That I had to buck up and do it myself.

Until recently, Owen had perhaps been the only person that I had remotely let in. He had seen me cry once or twice and I had apologized for it profusely. He wanted to protect me, I could tell, but I had always held him at an arm's length and made sure that it was my career that he was protecting, not my personal life. Even though I had people that I would consider friends, like Amelia and Jo, I avoided opening up to them. Not even Amelia knew what happened to me before I had left home. Only Jackson did.

He was my chance. My chance to learn to open up to the idea of not being alone against the world, of letting someone else take care of me, too. Of taking care of someone else. I couldn't use the fish tank in my bedroom was an excuse for knowing how to take care of other people. It had to be more than that. That meant pushing myself – living in my discomfort, as my yoga instructors had been telling me for years. It was more than physical.

"Kepner!" Miranda yelled. "What are you doing?"

Shit. I was out of it.

"Sorry," I apologized with a quick shake of my head, taking a deep breath. "Sorry, I'm so sorry. Let's go again. I'll get it this next time, I promise."

"You better," she looked at me sternly. "If you need another day, just tell me."

"No, I'm good." A smile was forced. "Let's go again. This'll be the final take, I promise."

As the cameras get rolling for another take of the scene, it was a little easier to get going. His gorgeous blue eyes were still a challenge to not get lost in for me, but for Jane, she's too smart to get distracted by something so superficial.

Just barely, I manage to keep my word and get through that take of the scene without being distracted, delivering every line the exact way that it needed to be and not shying away from physical contact with Jackson. It's not the final take, unfortunately, but at least this time it's not my fault – an issue with sound causes us to go through it once more before Miranda is happy with what had been captured on the other side of the camera. I've got one more scene to film after, but it was a quick transition. Quick enough that it allows me to stay inside of Jane's head instead of getting lost in my own again, which makes it a quick shot.

Reaching my trailer as quickly as I can, I get changed out of the clothes and into a pair of leggings and an oversized shirt. My phone takes me a second to find in my dresser, but when I open it up, there was already a text there from Jackson just waiting for me to read.  
 _  
[Received] Let me know when you're done._

_[Sent] I'm done. Where are we going?_

_[Received] I've already got a plan. I'll be there in just a minute._

Once his message had been received on my phone, I stare at it for a few seconds, debating if I should send something back. Instead, I decided to leave it alone. Pulling my hair back in a ponytail and grabbing my purse, I stepped outside of my trailer and sat down on the steps outside of it. He doesn't keep me waiting for long, appearing in my line of vision within minutes.

"Hey." Jackson smiled and offered me his hand. "We're going to get burgers and possibly heart disease."

"Fine by me." For the first time today, I give a real smile.

He walked me to what I assumed was his car – but it's a different one than what I had seen before. This one was a truck that belonged more in rural Texas than urban California, but I resist commenting on it. It's a short drive over to a food truck. The menu, by far, is one of the most unhealthy and yet simultaneously delicious sounding ones that I've seen lately. Jackson ordered something completely ridiculous, a burger with melted cheese and jalapeño poppers and hot sauce. I go for something a little more in the middle, a burger with onion strings and barbecue sauce. Definitely still unhealthy.

But the truck makes sense. Once we had our burgers and drinks and a pile of napkins, he opened up the back where blankets were spread out and we sit down in the bed of the truck with our dinner.

It had been a long day of filming and for at least a few bites, food takes the priority over the conversation that the two of us still need to have. As messy and unhealthy as the burgers definitely were, they also happened to be completely delicious. I make it through just over half of it before I set it down and wipe off the excess from my hands to speak.

"I'm not mad at you." I paused to take a sip of my lemonade before continuing. "I mean, I am, just a little. But it's not really because of you. I think it's because of me."

"What does that mean?" Jackson's eyes were locked on me.

"I never learned how to let someone take care of me and… I think that's my issue. I want to take care of things myself and I don't want to let anyone help. Then you come into my life, and you help, and you go above and beyond to help. And I just… don't know how to react. Because I am also a control freak. A complete neurotic control freak. So those two things combined, you kind of just took my world and shook everything up." Two of my biggest issues, that I recognized, at least. He'd had an effect on both.

"Huh," he breathed out. A chuckle followed and my brow furrowed. "I mean, I kind of knew you were a control freak."

"Don't say it–"

"From the way you act in the bedroom," he continued with a smirk. "In that way, it's hot, trust me."

My eyes rolled. "Please tell me you have something of my sustenance to say than that."

"I do," he nodded. "I do. But I don't think that you're the only one at fault here. I've never really… had someone like you in my life. Someone who's just wholesome and good, uncomplicated in that kind of way. People have always wanted to use me for some reason or another and you're the first person who's had the opportunity to do that, and instead of taking advantage of it, you want the exact opposite. And I like that about you. But, uh, I think that I've had a very lonely life, whether or not I want to admit it. Trust me, I don't like admitting it. So having someone like you, for the first time really, I clung too hard. I just wanted to make sure that there was nothing in the way that was going to take you away from me."

The honesty that he gave me was unexpected. I thought that only I would have to spill out my heart and vulnerabilities but it was a welcome relief to hear it come from him, too.

"So I guess we're both a little fucked up, huh?" Picking up my burger, I took another large bite out of it.

"Yeah," he agreed. "But that's not going to stop me from loving you."

I looked up at him suddenly. "Do you? Love me?"

"Of course." Jackson's response was quick. "Of course I love you, April. I love everything about you."

There are tears in my eyes suddenly and I nearly drop the burger back into the paper container, swallowing so fast that I nearly choke. I had heard the words before but I was convinced that no one had meant it in the same way that he did right now.

"I think that I love you too." I grabbed a napkin to clean my hand before reaching for his.

"You think?" He questioned softly.

"I've never been in love with someone before. I've played the part but I've never actually experienced it for myself. But I think that this is what it feels like."

Shifting onto my knees so that I could move toward him, I cupped his face and kissed him hard. Jackson didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss between the two of us, his hands moving to grab my waist and pull me closer to him. It's messy, all of it, and I'm sure that I must taste as funny as he did right now. Yet at the same time, it was perfect.

Until there was the distinct flash of a camera and the sound of our names being called out.

"Jackson!"

"April!"

"Shit," Jackson swore under his breath as they continued. "Let's get out of here."

"Are you guys together?" One shouted the question.

"April, are you pregnant?" That one nearly made me snort as we rushed to move.

"Are you guys getting married?"

They really, really loved to jump to conclusions.

Lemonade spilled onto my lap as we got into the front of the car and quickly began to drive off, presumably into the direction of his household. I ignore it until we're through the front door of his house, quickly stripping out of the damp leggings so that I was just standing before him in a shirt and thong.

"How much do you want to bet some stupid magazine is reporting tomorrow that I'm pregnant and we're getting married?" I laughed.

"Oh, I'm not stupid enough to take that bet." Jackson rolled his eyes. "Let me get you some pants."

"Don't bother." I smiled. "You were going to take them off of me anyway, right?"

His demeanor shifted immediately upon my words, kicking off his shoes and stripping out of his jacket quickly. He descended upon me like a predator upon prey, one hand on the back of my neck and the other on my thighs. A moment passed before he bent down and picked me up with one arm as if it was the easiest thing in the world. My legs wrapped around his waist quickly, pulling against him tighter.

This kiss wasn't quite as messy as the one that had been interrupted yet it had the same fervent passion, only built up from the fact that we had been interrupted, leaving both of us wanting more and more. He was controlling me this time – holding my weight, my head, and I let him, forcing myself to embrace the lack of control. When he made me feel the way that he did, it's much easier to let him carry me across the house without protest and drop down onto the bed slowly, staying on top of me. The weight of his hips rested on top of mine and I can already feel his erection growing as he pressed down against me.

But I give him the one thing that I can for the night. Total and utter control.

It had been a long time since I had been beneath a man like that but I enjoy it. He takes me for everything that I am and makes sure that I come undone multiple times. Even when I take him into my mouth, I still let him have control over everything. It's good. He was good. Jackson knew exactly how to work a woman up and down, he had proved that the first time and he was more than energetic enough to prove it enough again. He exhausted me completely. Most of the time, I like to have a choice when it comes to spending the night at his house or going home to my own, but this time, I really don't. By the time that he was done with me for the night, every part of my body was tired. All I can do is fall asleep in his bed, on my stomach with my mouth wide open.

Getting back into some kind of normal habit with him feels good. Sneaking around from the press but the small opportunities to hold hands between takes. There was still plenty of speculation, rightfully so, of course.

The next month of filming flew by, though, for better or for worse. There were no longer any complications. Harper was gone and in jail, and as far as I knew, Jackson hadn't even bothered to communicate with him. He'd put up various things for sale. His mother had written me an apologetic email that I hadn't managed to get myself to reply to yet. Nothing had been said to my face. In a way, I felt like it wasn't necessary. She hadn't been alone in her disbelief.

There were only ten days left of filming now. But it wasn't my biggest concern.

"I know you look beautiful with your mermaid hair, but today, we're going straight. With the pantsuit that Izzie has got for you, you are going to look like a fierce, boss bitch for this interview."

Listening to Jo speak is easy. Thinking about what I was about to do was not.

"Thank you," I murmured, barely capable of anything else.

"Don't be nervous," she advised. "The law is on your side. The press is on your side. He pleaded guilty. There's no reason for anyone to be harassing you about this."

She was doing her best to help, which I appreciated, but it didn't get rid of any of the nerves in my stomach. I picked up my glass of ice water and drained hit easily. This was the first solo and public interview that I was willingly making since the accusation and trial had happened. That was the focus on the interview. I had to keep calm and rational. That was the only way that I would be able to get through it. Unfortunately, it doesn't take as long as I hope it would to get ready. Time seemed to be spinning ahead faster than I could keep up with it.

"You're on in five." One of the PAs came by and announced.

Letting Jo fiddle with my hair and makeup for a few moments longer, I pulled on the blazer that Izzie had laid out for me. It fits well, bright and pink with a pattern that I can't name, bringing color and life over the black pants and blouse that I had beneath it. It's feminine – for a moment, I can't help but wonder if it was too feminine. But I can't doubt that now. I need to be focused.

Heading over to get set up in front of the camera, I stay still and quiet as people come and go. Another glass of water is brought to me and I'm sure that I'm going to need it. My mouth already felt dry again.

"Are you ready, April? Is it okay if I call you April?" Sydney, the interview, asked.

I nodded my head, wetting my lips.

As the cameraman began to countdown for the two of us going live, I suppress the urge to panic that surfaced in my stomach. This was no different than being in front of the camera and playing a character, I had to covens myself of that much. There would be no breakdown or freak out. I would just be truthful and honest, without being too emotional. The latter contingency was the part that would be most difficult about all of this.

"April, thanks for joining us today," Sydney started. "This is your first interview since the Harper Avery scandal and we're happy to have you here today. But first, I want to get something important out of the way. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing well." I flashed my signature smile. "Things in my life had really settled down in the last month and I'm at a place where I'm very comfortable and happy with where I am."

"I imagine that working on your new movie, _Terminal_ , must be much more peaceful with the change of directors."

"Absolutely," I nodded. "Miranda Bailey is an utter blessing. She is so talented and focused, she knows exactly what she's doing. Our filming schedule actually picked up because of her, so we're getting very close to finishing filming. After the pause that we had to take, that feels really good. It feels like a real victory."

"Of course, I can only imagine," she smiled sweetly at me. "What was it like, before, working with him?"

I took a deep breath. "Awkward. I don't have another word to put on it, but it was awkward. I knew that he was a fan of me and I didn't realize to what extent until the harassment occurred."

"It must have been difficult, dealing with that. How long in advance did you know it was going to trial?"

"Only about a week."

"Okay, now let's focus on the day of the trial. Obviously, all of us are very happy for you with how things turned out. But I imagine that none of us feel the exact same way that you do. What was it like, going into the courtroom that day?"

"Terrifying and nauseating." My smile faltered. "I didn't know that he would plead guilty. I expected the worse to happen."

"Then came the predictable question. And how did it feel, when he did plead guilty?"

"Like the most miracles feeling. This huge weight and burden was suddenly lifted from my shoulders, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to harass or hurt people in the way that he had with me, or with Amelia Shepherd. The two of us became quite close during all of this because we shared what happened, and we shared the public scrutiny that comes with this kind of situation every single time. I cried myself to sleep that night because I was so relieved."

"That is really amazing." Sydney placed her hand on top of mine, giving it a squeeze. "Now, have you seen the petitions online? There's a huge one, the last time we had checked, it had a quarter of a million signatures, all trying to get you on _Law and Order: SVU_ with Mariska Hargitay. How do you feel about that?"

That was the transition point of the interview where everything got just a little bit easier to try and handle.

"I haven't seen that, actually," I chuckled. "But after I'm done with this movie, I would love that. I love SVU and Mariska is brilliant. Plus, I recently fell in love with New York City, so that would be a bonus. I want to move there once I'm done with _Terminal_."

"And would that have anything to do with a certain Mr. Jackson Avery? We saw pictures of you two exploring together."

Neither one of us had gone public. That had been my pushing, wanting to control the perspective on the relationship. Yet the truth comes out of my lips easier than I predicted.

"Yes, actually. The two of us are dating."

From the point going forward, the rest of the interview is easy. I knew that Sydney hadn't been prepared for that but she was more than happy to ask questions about our relationships. Most of my answers other than the fact that we are, indeed together, are a bit on the sly side. But it felt good to be actually talking about him. Most people had already pieced it together given that we had been photographed making out in the back of his truck, but it was the first confirmation that either one of us had given. I probably should have asked him ahead of time, but it just felt good to be free from hiding from the rest of the world.

Of course, by the time that the interview was over, there are dozens of notifications on my phone – from friends, from Owen, from other people who want a fresh scoop for themselves. I read through most of it but don't give a lot of replies other than an emoji here or there.

I turn off my notifications and send one text to Jackson, giving him a heads up that I was coming over. There's a load of paparazzi to fight through with their own questions about my relationships as I exit the study and make my way to my car. They only back off once I'm actually inside of the vehicle and they heard the engine turn on. Pulling away from the parking lot, I'm happy to leave them all behind and get to Jackson's house quickly.

Fortunately, it doesn't take me long to get there. I rush from my car up to his doorstep, ringing the bell. It doesn't take long for the door to swing open and reveal his bright smile on the other side.

"Did you see my interview?" The question rushed past my lips.

"I did," he nodded. "You went public."

"I went public."

"That means you're not going to be able to micromanage every aspect of what's going on." Jackson pointed out with a raise of his eyebrows. "You do realize that, right?"

I let out a breath and nodded. "I do. I'm… trying to let go a little bit."

"I also heard what you said about wanting to move to New York." His hands moved to my hips, thumbs catching my belt loops.

"What did you think about that?" I asked.

"Did you mean it?" His gaze moved over my frame.

"Of course I meant it!" I nearly yelped back at him, voice raising a little. "Why wouldn't I?"

Instead of giving me an answer, his lips pressed down against mine and I let out a dreamy sigh as I leaned forward into him. My arms wrapped around his neck and I pulled myself up just a little bit higher, finding some balance on my toes. The kiss brought me back down to Earth just a little.

"So, what?" Jackson asked when he finally pulled away from me. His nose brushed gently against mine. "Do you want to move in with me? Are you going to find your own place?"

"Well, I didn't want to force myself into your place," I murmured. "But I think it'd be nice. You know I love it."

"I do." Another soft kiss was placed on my lips. "And I'd love having you there."

"We have just a few days left of filming," he reminded me. "After that… a small break and then we have press tours, promotion, interviews, everything you can name, all around the world. So, why don't we take advantage of that little small break and get you moved into my place? We can do whatever you want." His thumb rubbed across the apple of my cheek gently.

I nodded gently. "Would you be offended if I wanted to keep my house here, too? But… you know, instead of just being my house, you're open to it, too."

"Why?" He questioned curiously.

"Well, this is still a big place for the industry. You never know when we might need to go back and forth. New York can be our primary home but if we need to be here to film, or whatever else… then we have a place here, too." I explained my perspective with a gentle shrug of my shoulders. "Plus, isn't this what the rich and famous do? Multiple homes even if they don't need them?"

"I think I'm supposed to be avoiding that kind of behavior," Jackson gave a chuckle. "But if you want to keep it, then we keep it. I'm not expecting you to move your entire life to New York, even if you're moving in with me. Your career is important to you, right?"

"Of course," I answered quickly. "It's… it's helped me help a lot of people. Did I tell you about this fan I met? Sawyer?"

"No," he shook his head. "Tell me."

Both of us sat down on the couch together and his arms wrapped around me as I explained the run-in that I had at the store with Sawyer and how it had pulled at my heartstrings in a way like nothing else. My first movie had a similar reaction, with domestic abuse survivors, many women had written online that they loved the character and the writing of the story. But this personal approach, holding her while she cried in my arms because me, personally, coming forward had given her enough strength to do the same… that meant everything to me. I thought that I didn't know how to explain it but once I open my mouth to really try with him, it managed to come out with a sense of coherence.

Unsurprisingly, I end up crying myself as I tell him the story and he holds me there. I let myself curl up in his arms and free myself of the emotion that I had kept locked inside. A week ago, Would have felt like I was burdening him by sharing. But now, it just felt like I was really welcoming him into my life.

"I like it when you share with me." Everything out of my system, Jackson still held me, stroking my hair.

"It feels a little weird," I admitted. "But… it makes me feel less lonely to share. Does it make you feel less lonely?"

"It does. It reminds me that you're really with me."


	10. Chapter 10

**_ JACKSON _ **

At the beginning of filming for _Terminal_ , ten days had seemed like an impossibly long time. But now, almost three months later, the last ten days of filming had flown by. There was no time to try and stretch them out. Instead, it was as if I had blinked and missed them entirely.

On the actual last day of filming, though, there was nothing left to be done between April and me. It was a little disappointing but that was just the way that things worked out. Our last scene had actually been shot two days ago, the movie ending with the two of us in bed together. At the opposite end of the spectrum, yesterday had been an intensive shoot of the most complicated fight scenes of the movies, something they had waited for the end until so she could train and learn the choreography for herself. There was a stunt double on standby, but she was stubborn and wanted to be able to do all of them herself. It had given Jo a little more work to do when it came to covering up some of the bruises that she had gotten in training. But she had fought her way through learning all of it and filming the scene without breaking anything. I was pretty damn proud of her for that.

A few more retakes of certain aspects of the fight scene were to be today, and then that was it. _Terminal_ would wrap and go into post-production. The project coordinator had already begun planning for the wrap party and April had offered up her house as a venue instead of something more traditional. It saved costs, so of course, they had gone for it without much fuss being made.

"And… action!" Miranda shouted.

The scene began rolling immediately and I leaned forward from my seat, hands folding together and setting my chin on top of them. My eyes stayed on April the entire time, but she doesn't look like herself, not really. Even if her face and hair were pretty much the same as it always was, the way that she carried herself and the way that she moved, that was much more distinct. It was hot and badass – fierce and strong as if she had been doing this her whole life and not just the months leading up to filming this scene. She was good at it. The effort put in had worked.

Movement is suddenly halted upon a sharp yelp escaping from April and she fell onto her back onto one of the thick mats on the floor, clutching her arm against her chest. Cameras and filming no longer a concern, everything was halted as I and others rushed to her aide.

"What happened?" Miranda asked quickly. My knees thudded against the mat as I got behind her, sitting her up.

"My wrist–" April cried out. Looking down at it, there was a clear bump on the outside of it, likely a broken wrist from the way it seemed like it was protruding out. "Landed wrong. Shit, it hurts."

"It looks like it's broken," I murmured, grabbing her shoulder and rubbing my thumb against the back of it.

"We have everything we need," Miranda said and I helped April onto her feet again. "That's a wrap on filming. Let's get you to the hospital and get the wrist checked out."

"I'll take her." I volunteered as if it wasn't already assumed. "C'mon."

With my arm wrapped around her shoulders, and her arm curled against her chest and trying to blink back the tears that were clearly obstructing her vision, I walked her out to my car as quickly as I could. It was tempting to just lift her up and carry her to myself, but I knew that she wouldn't have liked that, even if this was one of those instances where she actually was hurt. It doesn't take long and I make sure that it's a quick drive to the hospital.

The quick recognition of our faces in the hospital is likely to get some kind of special treatment, or maybe it was that combined with the tears staining April's cheeks. I fill out the paperwork with her assistance and we only have to wait a few minutes before we were brought into a patient room so she can get an x-ray.

Yet I'm the one who has to do the waiting once she was changed into a patient gown and taken in for an x-ray. It's difficult to stay calm and patient even knowing that she was with doctors and nurses who would make sure that she had the best possible care. A coincidence was set down right in front of me, though. On one of the waiting room tables is a copy of this month's People magazine and there was a tiny picture of the two of us in the corner with a caption about us being together. My eyes roll at the sight of it. There was no way that anyone could know this would happen, of course. But it was still just a little ridiculous.

Once she was out, they let me sit with her in the room again while we wait for the doctor. It's slower than we would have liked but she had been given some pain medication for her wrist, so at least now she wasn't crying in pain anymore.

"April Kepner?" An Asian male walked in, extending his hand before recognizing his error. "I'm Dr. Nico Kim."

"How is her wrist doing?" I spoke up too quickly.

"There is an obvious distal radius fracture in your wrist, which you can see here." He placed a picture of her x-ray up on the screen and turned it on. Even I could see the crack in her bone. "Fortunately, everything is still aligned, so that should save you some pain and treatment. We'll just get a cast on you that you'll need to keep on for about six weeks. After that, you'll likely need rehabilitation exercises or physical therapy to reduce stiffness and restore movement in your wrist and hand. For pain, I recommend an over-the-counter pain reliever. You're going to want to move your fingers regularly even once the cast is on to keep them from stiffening."

"That's it?" April blinked in surprise as she sat up, glancing down at her wrist. "Oh. Well… I guess that's not so bad. That'll put a hinder on moving, definitely, but that's not so bad."

"Now's not a good time to be moving, right. You don't want to make it any worse." Dr. Kim smiled. "We'll get a cast on you in just a minute."

Another wait, though this one was short as well before a yellow cast is wrapped up around her arm. She wiggled her fingers and winced once it was done. It wasn't her dominant hand, fortunately, which would make a lot of small things much easier for her going forward. She could sign her own paperwork for the discharge. But it looked like reasonably, I would be the one driving her around for a bit.

"Let's put off the move two weeks," April suggested on the drive home.

"Why?" I questioned, glancing over at her.

"I can't pack up my stuff, you heard Dr. Kim. I don't want to make you have to deal with all of my crap." She explained.

"How much crap do you think you'll need?" My gaze returned to the road. "You're not bringing furniture. You don't need to bring flatware. Personal stuff is all you need to bring and that's not going to be a lot to pack. Besides, if you put it off too much, you're not going to be settled in time to start filming for the SVU winter finale."

"Oh yeah," she breathed out. "Yeah, crap. I'm going to have to figure out what to do about this thing."

"They want you on the show. I'm sure they can work around it." I reminded her gently, reaching over and placing my hand on her knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

There were plenty of calls wanting to know how April was doing that she filled both on the drive home and within a few minutes of actually getting at her house. Miranda and her agent both want to make sure that she's okay and it's nothing too traumatic. I couldn't tell if she was downplaying it on the phone or if the pain medication had really made that much of a difference She laid down for a while to try and sleep some of it off.

Of course, that means come time for the wrap party, she's not decorating.

A party planner takes care of that in coordination with an interior decorator, taking April's space and turning it into a lavish scene with a makeshift bar brought in and other decor items. There's a giant poster for the movie of the two of us, the one that Benjamin Warren had shot before filming had even started. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

Two weeks had passed and some of the pain had gone down but I made sure that I was around plenty in case I was needed. I had come over early to get ready for the party with her, almost feeling as if I was hosting with her even though it was her house and her movie. The dress that she chose is a yellow and white one that matches her cast, and she has Jo come over to curl her hair. She swore that she would have done it herself if it weren't for the cast on her arm, but I could tell that she was actually rather fond of the brunette. I let them get ready in the master bathroom, helping the coordinator piece together a few last details here and there once I was dressed in all black.

"This is such a beautiful house," the coordinator praised. "I can't believe she'll be moving out of it."

Another statement to how lucky I was, we both were, that things had managed to work out thus far. Things had felt smooth sailing with Harper in jail and filming finished. We had time to do things that we actually wanted to do, not necessarily needed to.

When people began arriving for the party, they arrived in throes of large groups that filled up the living area quickly. The music was turned up and the bar was taken full advantage of, and it didn't take long for her house to be completely filled with noise in the same way that it was people. Everyone working on the movie had been involved from all of the actors to the PAs to those who were working on the soundtrack for the film. The catering had been overboard enough that the smell of food takes over anything else.

"Jackson, come here, I want you to meet someone." April grabbed my arm, tugging me along with her. "This is Keith Richardson, he wrote the script for the movie. He's working on another movie script that he thinks you might like."

"Hey. Nice to meet you, Keith." I shook his hand firmly.

Although I listen to him speak about the idea that he had next, a romantic thriller, only half of my attention is really paid to him. April was clearly interested in it and clinging onto his every word. It was endearing. Even when it wasn't necessarily a project of her own, she was still so engaged. She had the true energy of a working woman.

"Excuse me for just a minute, you guys." Another familiar face had distracted me.

Moving my way through the crowd to catch up with him, it only took me a minute before I was clapping Benjamin Warren on the back in greeting. Among all the movie personnel, it was nice to see someone who had a preference for photography in the crowd.

"Hey, man," I greeted him. "I'm surprised you came."

"Well, I heard about the open bar." Ben laughed. "Congrats on you and April, by the way. I knew there was a spark between the two of you when I first saw you guys together."

"Uh-huh," I rolled my eyes despite the smile. "Sure thing."

"Hey, just saying, when you guys need wedding photos, you've got my number," he beamed.

"I think you might be getting ahead of yourself there." I shook my head. "Trust me, I'm not about to pull a Pete Davidson with her. I don't mind taking my time to make sure that things are right and she's more than worth it."

He nodded his head. "I'm glad to hear that," he offered up. "Congrats, though, seriously. It's not easy to make a relationship like that work in this kind of industry. Trust me. Some of the models that I've dated? Almost never ended up working out after we were no longer working together."

"Really?" I questioned. "Well, that's just 'cause they all realized they deserved better."

"Hey!" He punched my arm lightly, easygoing. "Don't be a dick. I'm serious, man. It takes work to make it work."

"Now you just sound like some daytime talk show." I pointed out. "I know it's going to take work and I'm more than happy to put it in. She really is worth it. I mean it when I say it. We've already been through a lot together."

"Won't argue there," Ben nodded. "Hell of a thing to start off a relationship with."

Given that this was the first wrap party for a movie that I had ever been through, I wasn't sure how late or long it would go. I step outside to try and get some fresh air at some point, but instead, I'm overwhelmed by the smell of marijuana. It's a little strong, even for me.

But it's not until five in the morning that the party is cleared out of the house. A few people had gone to clubs hours early before the slow trickle of the remaining people had occurred. There's plastic cups everywhere and small plastic plates of food that had all been abandoned by others at some point. It would be a mess to clean up in the morning – or rather, later today. Even though I spotted her picking up some of the empty cups and tossing them into a giant black trash bag, I don't want her to worry about it right now.

"Hey," I walked up to her, snatching the bag. "Let's go to bed."

"This place is a mess. I can't sleep knowing that my house looks like this." She argued.

"We will break out the vacuum and the Swiffer tomorrow. We'll open a window and let things air out a bit, and it'll all be the same in the morning. I promise." I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. "I know that you're tired. You drank wine and wine always makes you tired."

"Oh, I hate that you're right." She leaned into me, nose bumping against my chest.

"I know you well, that's all," I chuckled.

"I'm predictable and boring," April whined.

"You are predictable, but I promise, you are very, very far from being boring. Otherwise, this place would already be clean." I teased her. Bending down, I scooped her up bridal style to carry her up the stairs. "Now I'm taking my girlfriend to bed. See? I'm predictable, too."

Getting her out of her dress and into bed is easy. So is making love to her.

Moving her out of her house and into my own is just about as easy as I expect it to be. Selling my items from the home in Los Angeles is pretty easy – people love celebrity items and I'm not worried about making a profit off of it, which helps the items go faster. The house sells too, quicker than I expected it, slightly under the market price. Probably the reason that it went at the speed that it did. It put my bank account in a comfortable place.

That turns out to be more necessary than I would have guessed because the next job I take doesn't pay.

After the scandal with my grandfather, and now that my mother had come around to the right side of things, she felt enough to repent. I knew that she had tried to apologize to April and April had said that she was still thinking about how to respond, last time that I had asked her about it, but I had decided not to push. I would leave it up to her how she wanted to deal with my mother – I was not close to her now and I never had been, even if I had managed to forgive her for it. But it was a lot easier for me to forgive than it would be for April. I had lived on the sidelines of what happened, I hadn't actually experienced it myself.

But as a righteous act of apology, Catherine had decided to take a giant sum of money and donate it to the Rape Foundation. Even if it wasn't her place to apologize for what Harper had done, money seemed to be always accepted no matter what the circumstances were, especially when the sum total happened to be in the millions. Once Harper found out about it, he would no doubt be furious. I was sure that was something that she was well aware of. It was possible that was even a part of her purpose, some kind of jab back at him for his actions and lies over the years.

In addition to the donation, though, she had gotten me on board to agree to do some photography work for them. I was working on a project to honor the women and men who had survived rape. April hadn't wanted to do it herself, but Amelia was on board with getting on the other side of the camera again. She was comfortable with me. I hoped that the other subjects I shot would be, too.

"Hey, you're not going to be late, are you?" I questioned, pushing April's cup of coffee across the counter.

"No," she shook her head. "Filming got pushed back an hour. Oh! And my doctor said that I could get the cast off at the end of the week, which I know they're very excited about it. The ugly, baggy coat to cover it up was not very much fun for the wardrobe department to work with."

"That's great." I smiled at her.

We had been in New York for two weeks now. It had taken two weeks before to get everything packed up, and there were still a few things here and there scattered across the apartment that needed to be unpacked. But within the two weeks that we had been here, she had already gotten back to work. Despite the break in her arm, the producers at _Law & Order: SVU_ still wanted her on the show for a three-episode guest arc. It would be over a story similar to hers. I thought that she would hesitate to take it given all of the memories that it would drag up, but she was thrilled about it.

It also meant that the two of us hadn't been seeing a ton of each other since we had actually moved in together – the opposite was what I had predicted to happen. But she had gotten very busy with filming quickly and I was working to get models and participants together with my project so I could start shooting it as soon as possible.

"Yeah. This thing has been a pain in the neck, and oh my god, it is so itchy underneath. Plus, I know that you probably haven't enjoyed babying me all the time. That has to get annoying."

"Not when it's you," I shook my head in disagreement. "You know that I like taking care of you."

"Too sweet," April clucked her tongue, stepping forward and placing a kiss on my lips. "I am going to get going, though. I wanted to run through some lines with Mariska before we started filming today."

"Okay," I nodded my head. "I'll see you tonight. Have fun."

Listening to the sound of the front door shut, I sighed and glanced down at my phone, refreshing m email. It didn't always feel like we were living together, other than at nighttime. Then she was there, most of the time, at least. It was a big arc, I knew that. Filming on television shows was also much faster than it was movies. It wouldn't be that much longer of the back and forth, of missing her.

I hoped.

This was exactly what Ben had warned me about at the wrap party, distance forming with no longer working together. It brought up a lot of questions that I didn't want to have to face. Had I attached myself to her too quickly? Did we make the right decision – being together, moving in together? Was that the real reason that she had wanted to keep her house in LA, to have a safety net in case she decided that she didn't like things here? The last hadn't even been considered when she had first suggested it but now I couldn't help but wonder if there had been some kind of ulterior motive. It didn't sound like her, but that just looped me back to the beginning: maybe I didn't know her as well as I thought I did.

We had known each other only half a year. Not the fastest relationship in the world or in our industry, not by any means. It had lasted longer than some marriages that I knew of and we weren't at that point. But we had dove in, headfirst, working on the same to projects together: the movie itself, and of course, dealing with my grandfather. Things definitely put on a different perspective now that we were living our own lives again, together and separate.

Ruminating thoughts cause my day to drag on much longer than what I would have liked. I set up an appointment with Amelia so I can go through her shots for the photoshoot project that I was doing with my mother, as well as go through the process of contacting a few more potentials. I had been given a list to work from, fortunately, from the foundation itself. I wasn't sure how I would have gone about finding women for it otherwise without being more intrusive than I was comfortable with being. Comfort between the photographer and the subject was important and that wasn't something that I wanted to ruin. That was why Amelia's was first, to learn the best way to navigate through something so delicate. Even if I knew her, I didn't know her quite as intimately as I knew April. It gave me a way to ease into it.

It felt as if an impossible amount of time had passed between April leaving in the morning and arriving home at night. I couldn't tell if that was my issues influencing reality, or just reality itself. The overlap was a little too intimate for me to be able to decipher properly.

"Hey, babe," I called out, finishing chopping up the onion I was working on and wiping off my hands to greet her. "How's the arm?"

"Free!" She held it up and gave it a little wiggle. After so many weeks of the cast, it was nearly weird to see. "Honestly, taking it off, I was worried that they were just going to cut right through my arm. But I can now scratch away and shower without worry at my own discretion. No more awkward plastic bags."

"Well, it looks good," I smiled. "How does it feel, though? What'd they say about physical therapy?"

"We went over some stretches. I didn't realize how limited my range of motion in this wrist was going to be now. Look at this." She held both hands out in front of her and pointed her fingers toward the floor. It was clear the wrist that had been broken didn't bend as close toward her.

"Huh," I huffed. "I mean, that makes sense. You're not doing any stunt work right now, though, right? It shouldn't be a big deal for you as long as you're on this project?"

"No, it'll be fine," she waved it off with her right hand. "I like what I'm doing."

I moved back to the kitchen, motioning her to follow so I could finish up with dinner. It was just a pasta but I was putting in some effort for the sauce – a vodka sauce with chicken, zucchini, squash, mushrooms, roasted tomatoes, and onions. "I can tell. It's all you talk about." It wasn't intended to be a snide comment and I hoped that she didn't take it that way. "Does it make television work more appealing to you? I always figured you were just in it for movies."

"I'm not sure what I want right now," April admitted with a shrug. "Both sound nice. Something different could be good. Especially since television shows usually have more of a set schedule. It might be good to settle down some."

"Settle down how?" I asked, clearing the chopped onions off the cutting board and into the pan.

"I've always wanted kids, you know. The whole normal life and family thing. I want to raise kids and I'm turning thirty-one in April. So maybe with this coming pilot season, I could… land a show and have something steady." It almost felt like a bomb dropped. I tried not to react with my face as I grabbed the chicken to cut up.

"Kids?" A glance was given up at her. Her nails tapped against the counter as she looked at me. "Are you thinking about that right now? Or soon? Or what?" I couldn't help the questions.

April shrugged again. "I don't know. But I'm thinking about them. Why? Is that a bad thing?"

"No, it's not that," I shook my head quickly. "I don't know. I haven't thought a lot about being a parent. I guess because I never really had… normal parents, you know? The way I grew up. No dad, Mom was barely around…"

"Normal parents are overrated," April interjected quickly. "My parents were normal and they still screwed me over."

"I remember," I nodded.

"It's not about having good parents. You don't need that to be one. Sometimes that spoils you. When you have crappy parents, you know exactly what you won't do for your kids. You want to do all of the things for them that your parents should have done for you." She explained passionately, leaning forward as her nails stilled. "You're not against the idea of it, are you?"

"No. I'm not against it." I was just worried that I would be a failure of a parent. That instead of having the best part of my life leave me, it would cause me to leave her. "I just, uh, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about tonight."

But now, that feels like the worst possible idea.

"What is it?" April asked, her eyes trained on me.

Taking a deep breath, I wonder if I should leave it for another night when she hasn't brought up such a serious topic. I was glad that it had been mentioned before and not after – I'd read about couples who had kids to try and save their relationship, and all of the dangers that could bring. Well, danger was a stretch. But it seemed like it never ended up being what was best for the two of them or the kid that ended up involved. I didn't want to be like that. That wasn't fair to any kid. But now, there was no point in trying to avoid the truth with her. I had made her a promise about lying and I intended to be a man of my word.

"It just seems like things have been a little distant between us lately," I admitted slowly as I finished cutting the chicken. Briefly, I'm glad to turn away from her and put everything on the skillet so I don't have to see her face for the reaction. If it was a one-sided feeling, it wouldn't be good.

"Distant?" April questioned. "How so?"

I sighed. "Well, we've both been working a lot, and I know that's a good thing."

"And we both love our work," she interrupted.

"Yes, yes we do." I nodded in agreement quickly. "But, since in the past, we've worked together and that's it… I think that we don't really know how to do this part of things. Working separately and still being together. It's a different balance, you know? Maybe when we were filming, we could work all day and eat and come home and have sex, and that was it. But now doing that, you know, it doesn't feel like I'm really spending time with you in the way that I want to be. I don't want either one of us to have to make sacrifices with our jobs, just... I don't know. Maybe it's all in my head."

The silence that initially answered me only caused that insecurity inside of me to fester. I knew that clinging to her could be bad, in a way – I was taking out the loneliness that I had lived with for years on her, and that wasn't fair. There was a medium ground somewhere that I needed to make sure I stayed on.

"I… yeah, I can see that." April finally responded after a few moments.

"So what do we do about it?" My question was faster as I turned back toward her.

"I don't know."

Another pause fell between us and I wet my lips as I began to stir the sauce. I'd never done this before and I wasn't really sure if she had, either. All of my relationships in the past had been casual enough where something like this wouldn't have bothered me.

"What if we commit to spending just a little bit of time with each other, right off the bat in the morning? We can go to that little coffee shop that you like down the block, the one with the crazy donuts. We'll have a little morning walk, a little quiet time before the rest of the world gets started." She suggested with a raise of her brows. "It'll mean waking up early. Really early, some days, if you're up for that. It's not a fix. We'll still have to be really open with each other to make sure that we're using our time to the best of our ability, but... it's something concrete."

"That might be four a.m. some days. Are you sure that you're good with that?" I asked.

"It's open twenty-four hours. May as well take advantage of that." She smiled.

"Then let's do it." She slipped around the counter as I spoke, reaching up for me and placing her lips on mine. I leaned down into her slightly, hand resting on her hip for a moment and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you."

"I want you to be happy with me here," she reached up to me and stroked my cheek as she spoke.

I caught her wrist, kissing the inside of it. "I am happy that you're here, April. I am."

"I like being here," she smiled. "The city is a different pace than I'm used to and I have to say, I really like being able to take the subway everywhere instead of getting stuck in traffic for hours on end. But I like the atmosphere a lot more than I thought I would. Of course, now that it's getting colder and I haven't experienced a real winter since I was eighteen, I might change my mind."

"I have an idea for winter, actually." One more kiss was placed against her lips before I turned my body back toward the pasta and sauce so I didn't screw anything up. "But I guess if you don't like the cold, maybe I shouldn't bring it up."

April poked me with her finger. "You know I want to hear it. Tell me."

"Well, you'll have a pause with filming this because of the winter hiatus and whatnot, right? A few weeks off?"

"Yep," she nodded her head eagerly.

"I was thinking that during that time, maybe we can go skiing somewhere. Once you're done with this arc on SVU, we'll have to start up with doing press for the movie and going to premieres, then it'll be the pilot season for you, so I figure that we might as well get it out of the way a little early," I suggested. "We can go anywhere you want. Colorado, Nevada, the Alps. Whatever you want." It'd been a long time since I'd done something like that but I couldn't imagine doing it with anyone else.

A delighted noise escaped her and she bounced on her toes. "Yes!" She clasped her hands together with excitement. "Yes, yes, yes. Oh, that sounds perfect. I've never gotten to do that before. I'm going to ask around and look up the best places to go skiing, I don't care where it is. I've never actually gone skiing before – just to a few ski resorts for socializing."

"So, no black diamonds right off the bat. Noted." I nodded. "We'll make sure that you know what you're doing once you're on the skis, don't worry. I know you don't like massages but we could do facials, or pedicures, something at the spa. Hot chocolate in front of the fire, a sleigh ride, dog sledding, Christmas markets, tobogganing… we can definitely keep busy."

"Snow is beautiful to photograph, too." She picked up an extra spoon and stirred the pasta that was boiling in the bot.

"It is. You'd make a beautiful subject in it." I commented.

"Maybe," April chuckled. "Maybe."

Turning down the temperature of the stove for both the pasta and the sauce, I turn toward her and placed a firm kiss on her lips. She leaned into me and I cupped her face between both of my hands, running my tongue across her bottom lip and just getting a small taste of everything that she had to offer. If dinner hadn't just been finished, it would have been tempting to just eat her for dinner. But cooking was a skill that I was trying to a hone a little more outside of the breakfast hours and at least throwing together a pasta dish like this was simple enough. This wouldn't stay hot, but she would.

"Come on, let's eat dinner," I tucked her hair behind her ear. "We're going to have an early morning."


	11. Chapter 11

**_ APRIL _ **

"You did pack a different jacket, right?" Jackson's voice interrupted the scrolling on my phone.

"What's wrong with this one?" I questioned, glancing down at the olive wool that covered my body. I was pretty much all jacket and boots given the ones I was wearing at the moment went up to my knees.

"Nothing," he shook his head quickly. "It's fine. It's just not the kind of jacket you can go skiing in, you know?"

Oh. "I was thinking that I could just get one there, honestly," I admitted with a show. "I don't have one."

"No problem," he agreed, his arm wrapping snuggly around my shoulders. "We'll go shopping once we're there."

The flight was to get to Crested Butte, Colorado. After poking around the Internet about different places that were great for skiing, I had decided on one of the more popular places in the states. I had considered a few foreign countries, Austria and Switzerland, but that seemed a little excessive. There were plenty of great places in Colorado and it had the added benefit of legalized marijuana, which I knew was something that Jackson would enjoy too. Maybe I could share some of that enjoyment when neither one of us was working. That was part of my hope with coming here, at least. I could afford to be a little more like him in some ways.

Jackson and I had officially been living together for a month. The fact that we had moved in with one another so quickly after filming had ended, and that it was on the other side of the country for me, had put the media in a frenzy. There had been plenty of speculation about whether or not I was pregnant, if the two of us were getting married, and then, of course… the less than kind whispers. That he had been in on it, that the Harper Avery scandal had been made up. That kind of thing persisted no matter what. Even when he had confessed to being guilty, and he was guilty, some people still seemed set in their ways of doubting women and the truth just because he was a once powerful man. I did my best to try and scroll past the headlines whenever they came up and ignore it because I knew the truth, but it wasn't always that easy. Just because I swiped past it one time didn't mean that it left my head quite so easily.

For better or worse, my period last week had confirmed that another one of those rumors definitely wasn't true, even if I had briefly mentioned the idea to Jackson. It's hard not to think about that kind of thing when the rest of the world was constantly screaming it at you. I'm thirty. I'm at that age where it's the kind of thing I'm pretty sure that I was biologically tuned to think about more. I'd always wanted a baby. At least one.

We had a one bedroom suite at Mountaineer Square, which was pretty much in the heart of Crested Butte. It took no time at all to find a place to buy some proper ski gear for myself. The city itself was small, almost entirely based on the fact that it was a good place to ski. The snow was plentiful, covered across the ground like some kind of fairytale.

Getting both of the skis actually on turned out to be more of a challenge than I thought. The boots themselves were bulky and it takes a few tries before I finally hear the click to indicate that I actually had them in the right way.

"I promise, it's easy once you get the hang of it," Jackson said.

"Easy for you, maybe." I rolled my left wrist. I'd done the physical therapy and this was more in my legs.

"To walk around, all you have to do is use the poles to propel yourself forward. If you're moving, you want to keep the skis parallel to one another, okay? You'll want that once you're on the hill, too, to move. Parallel is moving. Now, when you want to stop, or maybe just slow yourself down, you want to point the front of your skis together like this." He demonstrated as he spoke. "Just like a piece of the pie. It'll slow you down and stop you. Just be careful not to stop too suddenly or you might make yourself fall."

"I'm definitely going to fall," I remarked, digging my ski poles into the snow and dragging myself forward. "How am I supposed to get up when I do with these giant things on my feet?"

"Perpendicular. You'll have to push yourself back up but you want to keep the skis perpendicular to the slope so you don't go tumbling down again. Do you want to try the bunny rope first?" He pointed in the direction of what he was talking about.

Primarily with kids attached to it, it was a rope that led people up a small hill and gave them the opportunity to come down. It wasn't that steep or that long, clearly designed for people who had no experience like me. I can't decide if I should be embarrassed or not that it was mostly kids there. At least between all of the snow gear and goggles on my face, I was pretty much unrecognizable.

"Yeah, I do. Please come with me. I don't want to be the only adult." I requested.

"Alright, I'm right behind you."

Getting to the little hill is easy and holding onto the rope, it took me right up the hill. Jackson kept his word about remaining on my heels and when I get off of it a little too slowly, the front of his skis hit the back of mine and startle me. He helped guide me to the end and for a moment, I stand there, frozen at the top of the hill.

"This is supposed to be fun, right?" I glanced up at him, feeling my forehead wrinkle with a raise of my brows.

"It is. I promise," he nodded. "Just let go and I'll follow."

Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes and pushed myself off of the top of the hill. I don't move as crazy fast as I expected myself to, legs shaking as I glided down. It's easy. My heart raced inside of my chest still, unaware that the task was not quite as daunting as I had prepared myself for it to be. Until I reach the bottom. Forgetting how to slow down, I go too far and nearly crashed into someone, instead, falling onto my side.

"I'm right here." Jackson's response was faster than I could have hoped for it to be, squatted down next to me and extending his gloved hand. I took it, letting him pull me back up to my feet. "That could have been worse."

"It could have been better." There was the obsessive perfectionist in me.

"Hey, no one died and you didn't break anything again. Seems like a victory to me." He chuckled.

"That is a terrible standard," I remarked. "I want to try again."

"Let's go."

A few more rounds are made on the bunny rope with varying degrees of success. Getting up and started was easier than I thought, more about just doing it than anything else, but timing the slow down wasn't as smooth. It seemed like an awkward dance between too fast and too slow, never quite timing it right. But at least no one gets hurt.

"Can we try one of the real slopes? Maybe stopping will be easier over a distance." I suggested.

"Are you sure?" Jackson's eyebrows raised up. "I mean, they have easy ones if that's what you want."

"Yeah, I think so," I nodded, bending down to brush snow off my knees. "And I know that watching me on the kid's hill cannot be that much fun for you. I look like a moron."

"Oh, you'd be surprised," he chuckled. "I got some great photos."

"No, you didn't!"

"Yes, yes I did." I groaned at his answer, shaking my head. "C'mon, snow bunny. Let's go hit a real slope."

Following him over toward the chairlift, there was a short line that we had to wait in. I watched every detail of the process for the skiers in front of us, not wanting to look like a fool by the time that it was our turn. It seemed pretty easy to get on, actually, just about timing it right and that's what the attendant helped with. It was definitely manageable.

Fortunately, the two of us get on a chair together without any problem. As it began to lift us up the heel, I realized just how heavy the boots and skis connected to my feet were. Seeing a better view of the mountain was exhilarating. I'd never been scared of heights before, but I can't help but notice how huge of a fall it would've been if someone slipped off of these and how little restraints there were. It didn't seem particularly safe, especially with people zipping down below at speeds that were certainly impossible for me. About two-thirds through the lift, I realized there was one more thing that I hadn't prepared for.

"Jackson?" I whispered, head snapping toward him.

"What's up?" He replied casually.

"How do I get off of this thing?" I looked forward just for only a second before my gaze returned.

"Easy." For him, maybe. "Once we get there, you just kind of slide forward and do a little jump. There's a little hill for you to go down so you can get out of the way of the people who are behind us, so no one gets hurt. We'll jump at the same time, okay?"

And we do.

Except when we jump together, Jackson glides down the little snow mound with all of the ease in the world and I tumble forward a moment after landing. Rolling as quickly as I can with the skis strapped to my feet, I get out of the way of the next couple of skiers who look at me with something akin to pity and amusement. I can't blame them. There were plenty of kids around who were way better at this than I was.

"Are you okay?" Jackson asked, extending both hands to help me onto my feet again.

"Yeah," I shook off some of the snow. "I probably should've asked sooner."

"No, I should've remembered you haven't done this before, that's on me." He took the blame quickly. "The easy trail is this way. You see the little green sign? That means it's the easiest one." He pointed out.

Using the poles to help me get over there, I look back at Jackson once. He gave me a nod of his head and encouraged me to go forward. I knew that he would be right behind me the whole time, or at least as close as he could be without putting either one of us in danger of getting hurt. I take a deep breath and pushed myself forward, beginning my descent.

This hill was a little steeper than the modest practice hill had been, something that was hard to see until I could just feel it with the way that I was moving down it. It was faster than I had expected and a bit faster than I was really comfortable going. Yet at the same time, it was a rush. Flying down the hill like that was freeing, even if the wind that slapped against my exposed cheeks were frigid. Suddenly, it all clicked into place. This was why Jackson loved it so much. It was letting go. He was smart. He knew that it was something I didn't do enough. Maybe I was getting better at picking that up from him.

But come the bottom of the hill, I have the same problem that I'd had at the smaller one. I was coming in too fast and I could feel my knees shaking as I forced the front of my skis together. The momentum is too much and the rest of my body doesn't get the message, tumbling forward and face diving right into the snow.

"April!" Jackson shouted behind me.

Groaning, I felt his hands on my shoulders for only a moment before I flipped over onto my back. "Hi." That fall had hurt a bit more than the others, goggles on my face digging harshly into my skin. "I'm terrible at this." One of my skis had dislodged from my boot.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "But it's kind of reassuring to see that you're not perfect at everything. Come on." He helped me up.

Brushing off the clumps of snow that had stuck to me, I panted a few times before evening out my breathing again. The goggles stick to my face briefly before I unstuck them, pushing them up onto my forehead. Almost immediately, the action earned a laugh from Jackson and I realized how deep the imprints on my face must have been right now. Hopefully, it wouldn't bruise.

"I think that I might need a break. I'm gonna break something again."

"Maybe," he pulled me tightly against his chest for a hug. "But you didn't on day one, so that's good."

Returning the rental skis and ski boats doesn't take long, and I'm more than happy to undress from the layers and layers of clothing that I had put on to go skiing. It was below freezing out, sure, but I had probably layered up a little more than necessary. I had gotten used to the constant warm temperatures that came with living in California. It was almost reassuring to know that at least one aspect of my roots and been forgotten.

"I'm going to shower," I announced as I pulled off my socks.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Jackson asked.

"Not at all."

Even if the suite was plenty warm, it doesn't stop me from turning up the temperature of the water in the shower. It wouldn't take long for the bathroom to become covered in steam. I'd always liked the kind of shower that was hot enough to steam before I had even stepped in.

Stripping out of the rest of my clothes, I give a slight shudder realizing a bit of my hair had gotten wet from the snow and was now dripping against my bare back. I hop into the shower with waiting for Jackson to join me, dipping my head beneath the stream of water to get all of it wet and rid myself of the cold temperature. Once that was done, I was able to relax. I hear Jackson enter the bathroom and turn to face him as the shower door opened and he stepped in.

"Hi."

His hands found my hips as I spoke and he leaned down to kiss me. I pulled him under the water with me, stretching up so that my arms can wrap around my neck. It's not long before his hands are on my ass, squeezing and pulling at my cheeks gently.

"You are so goddamn beautiful," Jackson praised as his mouth found the slope of my neck. My breathing was quickly becoming faster again as he sucked on the flesh there, undoubtedly leaving marks.

"I do–" A moan interrupted as his thumb teased my nipple. "Want to wash my hair."

He chuckled. "I got it."

Even when both of his hands are on my scalp and massaging shampoo through the length of my hair, he might as well have had one between my legs. That was the kind of effect that he managed to have on me. I was throbbing with desire for him by the time that my hair had been rinsed out of all the shampoo and conditioner suds. I was nearly embarrassed but I could feel his length pressed against the small of my back.

"Jackson…" I whined out his name, pressing my ass back against him.

"What do you want, princess?" His mouth was right against my ear, hands sliding over my wet body, cupping both of my breasts. His fingers find my nipples and give them a tug, just enough so it doesn't hurt but instead sends a jolt right between my legs.

"You. Fuck me, please, fuck me." I begged.

"Your wish is my command." God, it would've been cheesy if I wasn't so damn horny.

Without any more teasing, Jackson pushed inside of me from behind with a smooth, hard thrust. I canted forward and grabbed onto one of the railings in the shower meant for towels, other hand splayed out against the tile. He moved with quick, hard thrusts, not holding back a thing. Each was enough to shake my entire frame, the sound of his skin slapping against mine loud enough to be heard even with the shower on. I had thought that tomorrow I would be sore from skiing for the first time – but he was making sure that this would be the reason that I was sore tomorrow.

"Fuck!" I cried out, a salacious moan following moments later and I pushed my ass back against him.

"You feel so goddamn good," Jackson praised. One hand continued to hold onto my hip as an anchor but the other snuck forward between my thighs, his middle finger finding my clit. More moans begin to spill from my lips as fast and tight circles are rubbed across the sensitive nub, front sinking forward as my back arched further.

"I'm gonna cum." I can feel it just within reach with the way that he was working me. He was rarely a tease once he really got started, as if he were in some kind of competition with himself to see how fast he could make me cum. He was really, really good at it.

"Do it." His hips thrust into me even harder than before. "Cum for me, princess. Cum for me and only me."

Something about the sudden bout of possessiveness from him combined with the skillful movements of his fingers was enough to send me over the edge. My walls spasmed around his thick length as the waves of pleasure shook through my entire system. I nearly slip forward and his hold on me was the only thing that kept me from collapsing forward into the shower wall. His fingers ease up but his thrusts don't, making the task of keeping my balance even more challenging.

"Fuck, April!" Jackson cried out for me with a few more thrusts. I feel him pull out a little late, his warmth both inside of me and dripping down my inner thigh. "God damn."

Both of his arms wrap around me and he pulled me back against him, making it a little easier for me to straighten back up with his support. My head leaned back, just reaching his shoulder like a perfect little pillow for me. I could feel his nose brush against the top of my head. It was like a warm hug, cuddling me as if the two of us were in bed and not standing in a resort shower.

"I love you." The words come out of my lips easily, thoughtlessly, as if I said it every day.

"I love you too, April." His lips pressed against my wet hair.

"I mean it," I snaked around to face him, nearly stumbling in the process. "I mean it. This isn't just some post-sex rush of hormones talking. I know that I wasn't sure before because I'd never experienced it but this time I know and I mean it. This is what being in love feels like. This happiness. This… this push to be better and feeling a wholeness that I didn't realize I was lacking. I love you, Jackson."

His lips found mine again, but this time it was a sweet kiss. "I know. And I love you."

We stand under the stream of the shower for a few more minutes and let it get rid of the sweat that we had built up and other bodily fluids. Getting out of the shower first, I wrapped up in a towel and handed one to Jackson before wrapping my hair up in a second towel. Instead of getting dressed immediately, the two of us dried off and put on the soft robes provided before sitting down in front of the gas fireplace. He beats me to turn it on and the two of us settled down on the couch in front of it together.

My heart was still pounding inside my chest. Not quite the same way that it had been during skiing or when he had been screwing my brains out, but it was still faster than it should have been from just sitting there and cuddling one another. I could feel it, high in my chest, beating away persistently. Its noisy presence was impossible to ignore.

I was nervous.

Never had I told a man that I loved him before Jackson. I had played plenty of characters that were in love and had those scenes on the television. Hell, I'd had it with him, more or less, even if Jane had never said the exact word love – with everything that happened in the film and the natural chemistry between the two of us, the implication was very clearly there. But that was different. At the end of the day, I wasn't my characters, I was my own person. Even if relating to my characters was a good thing, and something that I had always done, this was so much more than that. This was deeper than I had ever gone. I was in the deep end and still learning how to swim.

"Hey." Jackson's voice pulled me out of my head as he kissed my temple, taking one of my hands between both of his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "What's wrong? You're shaking."

I hadn't even noticed the tremble of my hands until it stopped in his grip.

"Nothing," I breathed out quickly with a shake of my head. "Nothing's wrong, I promise. I think I'm just freaking out little because I just dropped the big L word without even planning for it. I just did it. I'm trying not to spazz right now but it is really, really tempting to spazz out."

"You don't need to do that, okay?" He turned toward me, not loosening his grip. "I'm here. I'm right here."

"I know." I leaned my frame further into him.

There were questions swirling around in my head that I couldn't stop. Doubt. Our relationship seemed like it was constantly shifting in one way or another and maybe Jackson had been right when he felt like it had taken a hit when we weren't working on something together. It had put a time restraint on things even though the morning coffee walks had helped give us time to actually talk with one another. But it didn't change the fact that we had only met at the beginning of this year. Filming had only been about four months – the same as _Skyfall_ , from what I had read. Post-production was taking longer even though the studio was pushing to have it done quickly, unhappy with the hit that the timeline had taken from the scandal. Our world was so skewed compared to the rest of the world, I felt like I didn't know what a normal relationship was supposed to look like. But maybe we didn't have one, maybe we never would.

"You don't think that we're moving too fast, do you?" I finally blurted out the question, looking up at him. "I'm sorry. Just asking that sounds bad but I have all of these thoughts in my head I can't control."

"It's okay." Jackson released my hand, rubbing my arm. "No, I don't. If we were engaged and you were pregnant, then maybe I might. But I love you, and you love me… this feels like a good place for us to be. Living together, learning how to function at both of our jobs with one another. I mean, it seems like something that's better to get out of the way soon, right? Make sure that we can actually be compatible with one another."

He had a fair point, one that I hadn't really considered. Even if things weren't necessarily perfect, they were still good as we figured out how to live around one another. Down the road, that would save some awkwardness.

"Okay," I murmured softly.

"People are always going to talk and have opinions about our relationship, April," he reminded me. "But what they say doesn't actually affect what happens between me and you. Not if we don't let it. I've had people talk about me my entire life, and I'm still who I am because of me, not because of them."

"I believe that." I really did. It's a little easier to believe with him than it was with me personally, for some reason. "I don't want other people in our relationship. Just… me and you."

"Me and you," he echoed my words and rubbed my arm again. "That's all there is."

Curling up against his chest and letting my eyes fall shut, I can hear the sound of his heart beating on the other side of his sternum. I carefully tuned my hearing to it, listening to the steady sound – slower than my own. I tried to slow down my breathing and match my heart rate to his own pace.

It doesn't strike me that I had fallen asleep until a gentle nudge of my shoulder is given and I realized that I was laying out across the entire couch, a blanket on top of me. I blinked a few times to clear up my vision and allow my gaze to focus on Jackson. He was squatted in front of me on the couch with his vape in hand. Before I could say anything, my stomach gave a loud grumble that caused the both of us to laugh.

"Well, that answers my question. Room service?" He asked.

I nodded my head as I sat up. "I guess all of that falling built up an appetite."

Jackson handed his vape pen over to me as he moved to get the phone. I trust him to order for the both of us – he has good taste in good, even if I've always had a habit of being a picky eater. A little unhealthy, sure, but maybe that was something that I could help him work on.

Toying with the vape pen in my hands, I placed it in my lips and pressed down on the button, inhaling. I count to three in my head like he always did before I exhaled, seeing the wispy smoke escape from my lips as I do. There was a burn in the back of my throat that apparently goes away with time. He did this way more than I did, but truthfully, I couldn't tell most of the time besides the red tint that came in his eyes when he was high. At least here, that seemed to be socially acceptable. I wasn't as sure about New York. It was just a different culture there.

"Can I ask you something?" I looked up at him as he came back over to join me.

"Ask away."

"Why do you smoke this?" I handed it back over to him as I questioned him, brows raising curiously. It wasn't a judgmental question, just a genuine curiosity. I'd never given it much thought before I had gotten close with him. He was a lot more relaxed than I ever had been, with and without it. I couldn't help but wonder if this had something to do with it.

"It relaxes me," Jackson shrugged his shoulders and I watched him take another hit from the vape. "It started off as a rebellious thing, though. Just to piss off my mom and Harper. Took me a while to realize I actually liked the way I feel when I do it."

"Do you think that it helps with anxiety?" That was pretty much what he had said, but I felt the need to be specific.

He nodded. "Yeah, pretty sure there's a bunch of research on it."

"I've tried to get off my anxiety meds a few times. I like that they make me capable of functioning on a daily basis but I don't like that if I miss a dose, I spend the next day with a headache from hell. And that they make me a lightweight." There I was, opening up. Maybe that was the weed hitting. Or the placebo effect. "Do you think something like this might help me?"

"I think… that I have played a doctor, but I'm not one. That's a question for someone smarter than me." A fair answer, certainly.

"Well, you're smarter than me." I don't know where I was going with that statement.

"No way," Jackson chuckled, shaking his head.

I raised my eyebrows. "Think about it. You've taught me so much, but what have I taught you, huh? You taught me to ski. And to not be… quite so uptight and controlling. What have I taught you?"

"You taught me how to be comfortable with who I am, and with people, again." He answered without hesitation.

The answer caught me by surprise. "Well…" I sighed out. "I'm going to teach you how to salsa dance."

"You know how to salsa dance?" His eyebrows shot up.

"I do. I have to learn it for a role and I'm very good at it." I smiled. "But not today. My thighs are killing me."

With the fireplace still on and warming the living space of the suite, the two of us pass back and forth the vape pen a few times and just relax until the food service comes. Of course, vaping weed only made me even hungrier than I had been before. I devour dinner even though it's a bit early – probably a good thing given that we didn't have to wait very long for it to show up in the first place. By the time that we both tore throat the strawberry cheesecake for dessert, my stomach is finally content again.

Once dinner was consumed, I finally get up to put on some real clothes besides the fluffy robe that I had spent a good portion of the afternoon in. The night was still young enough and with a nap under my belt, I felt energetic. I pulled on a pair of leggings and some looser fitting jeans over it before a tank top and a sweater dress my upper half.

"Are you going out without me?" Jackson teased as he caught me getting dressed.

"I hope not." I turned back toward him with a smile.

My hair was a complete mess from letting it air dry and then immediately falling asleep. It takes some time to get all of the tangles out of the length, just enough to make me consider that maybe I did need to chop off some of its length. It's frizzier than usual once all of the tangles are out. A braid mostly fixed that, getting two pigtails on either side of my shoulder.

"I didn't realize I was dating Pippi Longstocking," he said when I walked out of the bathroom.

"Maybe that'll be my next big role." I shook my head even with the smile on my lips. "What should we do tonight?"

"Well, I was looking around some of the little brochures for activities in town. I know it's already dark but most of the shops and stuff are still open if you want to browse around. Apparently, some of the coffee shops here are really, really good. Or it's not too late to go snowshoeing, even." He laughed as I shook my head. "Either way, you're going to need some boots with traction to get around town."

"Alright. Big boots it is." Plopping down onto the bed, I pull them on and lace them up.

Given that the resort was pretty much in the center of town, we don't have to worry about transportation when it came to getting anywhere. Once both of us were bundled up for the freezing weather outside, all we have to do is get out of the room and walk through the lobby to be in the heart of the small town. There was something in every direction.

There were a few quirky looking bookstores that we wandered in and out of. It had been a long time since I had sat down and read a book, admittedly. I couldn't think of the last time that I had actually finished one. I had loved reading growing up, especially when I was stuck at home for whatever reason – it gave me an opportunity to escape that was quite enough that I could fly beneath the radar of my overprotective parents. I picked up two new books. Maybe I would have the chance to start reading one of them on the flight back to New York. Technically I didn't have anything on the books until the press tour started.

Stepping back out into the freezing cold, Jackson was waiting for me just beside the steps. He offered me his hand as I walked down the thin steps and I took it, giving his hand a little squeeze. He gave me a smile.

The two of us walked hand in hand down the sidewalk for a small distance, careful not to slip on any of the ice or the snow that covered the path. There was a lot of it, of course. Even though New York got cold pretty quickly, or at least much faster than California ever had, this was a cold that was much more like home. There's some nostalgia there, but it's not a lot. I missed my sisters now and then, but none of them had been willing to stand up for me. It had been a family affair and I had lost.

"Hold on, just a second." Jackson stopped suddenly and let go of my head. As he pulled his phone out of his pocket, I could faintly hear it buzzing. I leaned against the wall to let him here the call.

"Hello? … Yes, yeah, this is he."

Toeing the snow with the tip of my boot, I tried not to eavesdrop on the conversation that he was having on the phone. Of course, when we're this close to one another and there's not a ton of other stuff going on the street, it's hard not to. He doesn't say much, mostly listening to whoever it was on the other end of the line. I have no idea what they're talking about. His face was suddenly a hard read, his brows drawn together tightly. I couldn't recognize the expression on his face. It was one that I hadn't seen before.

When he finally hung up with whoever was on the other line, I looked up at him with raised brows, expecting him to tell me whoever was on the line. There was silence for a few long seconds and his gaze was on the ground between us.

"Jackson?" I questioned, trying to call his attention. "Who was that?"

"Uh, a hospital back in Los Angeles." He breathed out heavily, looking away. "My mother's dead. She had a heart attack."


	12. Chapter 12

**_ JACKSON _ **

It was dead silence on the plane ride from Colorado to Los Angeles between April and me.

She had tried to. I had shot her down. Within a span of a few months, I had lost my entire family in one way or another – Harper wasn't dead but he may as well have been, as far as I was concerned. Even if things between my mother and myself were strained, I hadn't wanted anything to happen to her. And now she was gone in an instant. Even if she was past sixty, I had never even considered what life was going to be like when she died. She had always been so tough and resilient. To think that something as simple and common as a heart attack was capable of killing her… It just didn't make any sense.

Black women faced a huge disparity when it came to healthcare. I had seen it talked about, read articles on the matter. My mom had always been in good enough health, and financially so well-off, that I had always assumed it would protect her from having to face that. But that was stupid about me. I had read about Serena Williams, how she had nearly died in labor because the doctors hadn't listened to me. Had there been doctors there that hadn't listened to her when she presented the signs? Had my own mother really become another victim of another racist system? I knew that she had faced it throughout the entirety of her life – I had to. Our money had offered some protection, another set of challenges, but it wasn't some eraser of the problem. Our melanin was still there. That explicit bias may have been the thing to kill her. But it was unlikely that I was ever going to know with any kind of certainty.

But I wouldn't know. I hadn't been there. I had been on vacation with my girlfriend, smoking weed and acting as if nothing else in the world mattered. How stupid had that been? She'd been in pain and dying, and she had been the farthest thing from my mind. There would be no goodbye, either. The chance for that had come and gone.

"Why don't we stop by my place and drop our stuff off, then I can drive you to the hospital?" April made another attempt to speak to me when the plane had touched down, still on the tarmac.

"Okay." I agreed without looking over at her.

Grabbing our bags from the overhead bin and deplaning, we waited by the baggage claim area for too long. I pace anxiously up and down the length of the conveyer belt and I can feel April's eyes on me the entire time with each step that I take. I don't try to justify what I'm doing.

Not another word is said between us as we take a cab back to her house and go inside just for the sake of dropping off our bags and allowing her to get her keys. There's a fine layer of dust over everything in the house. Apparently, she hadn't hired someone to take care of it while we were gone. It's not long before I'm in her car, heading toward the hospital that was currently holding onto her body. The news hadn't broken to the media yet, according to the silence thus far on my phone.

"Oh, Mr. Avery!" One of the nurses blinked in surprise, lighting upon seeing me. "You're here."

"For my mother," I answered sharply, foregoing any politeness. "Her body."

"Oh, of course, right this way." An apologetic smile was offered and she glanced past me for a moment, seeing April and pausing. "For this kind of thing, we really prefer to keep it to the family only."

"She is family." Even if I didn't have the capacity to treat her like it at this second in time.

The nurse led us back through the doors without another word down to what I assumed was the morgue. A damn heart attack. People survived heart attacks all the time and yet she hadn't despite the resilience that she had shown her entire life. There was no way to try and make logic out of it. Nothing about it made any sense.

"Mr. Avery?" A man with a lab coat approached me, extending his hand. "I'm Dr. Preston Burke. I'm so sorry about your mother. We did everything that we could, but unfortunately, we couldn't get her back."

"Did you?" I barked at him. "Did you actually do everything you could? Or did you ignore her problems, brush her away and dismiss her until it was too late?" It doesn't matter if it's another black man standing across from me. There was no guarantee from another black man. I knew that. We could be pretty damn shitty to black women too.

"Yes, sir, I assure you, everything was done–"

"Then explain how this happened. She's healthy. She's been healthy her entire life. So how does she just have a heart attack out of the blue like this?" My hand swung out as I spoke, nearly hitting the glass that my mother was on the other side of.

"We can do an autopsy, if you would like, to try and gain more answers. But between her age, weight, and presumably, stress in the last few months… this isn't the most unpredictable thing." His demeanor remained calm.

"If it was predictable, then how did it get to this point?" I demanded.

"I'm very sorry for your loss, Mr. Avery. If you'd like to go in to see her, you may." Dr. Burke gave me a nod of his head as if that would somehow change the rage boiling through me, then glancing at April before leaving the both of us alone, walking away as if this meant nothing to him.

There was a hand on my shoulder and I shut my eyes, squeezing them shut and feeling my hands curl into tight fists. I know that it's April and that she was doing everything that she could to try and help right now. But there was nothing that would change what had already happened. The fact that I had never gotten to say goodbye to her, that we had ended on tense terms because of what had happened with Harper. There's another matter, of course – most of her money would presumably go to me, which was the exact opposite of what he had wanted. I wasn't sure how that was going to work. That would be a problem to figure out on another day.

"Jackson…" April murmured softly, her hand giving my shoulder a squeeze. "Do you want me to call a funeral home?"

My mouth was dry. All I could do was nod my head.

Staring through the window, I can't really see her. There was a sheet covering her body. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. There was an attendant inside of the room who gave me a sympathetic look – I wasn't sure if she recognized me or if she had just been able to overhear the conversation between the doctor and me on the other side of the door. Either way, the silence from her is what I need. I don't want to talk to anyone.

Approaching her body slowly, I took a deep breath. It had been a heart attack which meant that her body wouldn't be bruised or brutal, nothing too grotesque, and yet I hesitate to pull back the sheet. But I have to. I have to see it for myself and know that it was really her. Taking a deep breath and sighing it out, I finally pulled back the sheet just a few inches, peeling it back enough to see her face and curly hair – worn natural, which was usual for her. She didn't look like she was sleeping, which was the way I had always imagined dead people looked like. It was what I had thought of my father when I was young and he had let, even though he hadn't died, it was just what I had made up as a child to make it better to cope. It was hard to look at her like this. I put the sheet back over from her and turned away sharply.

"Jesus," I swore as I ran my hand over my face.

"Jackson, I'm so, so sorry." Her hand was on my arm. "I can't even imagine what you're going through."

"We… we weren't estranged, but god, we weren't even on good terms." I shook my head, scoffing in disbelief.

"Is there anything I can do?" April asked but I blew by her question.

"She was a good woman. I know that she wasn't on the same page as us with the stuff with my grandfather, but she was a good woman. She worked hard her whole life. She made a name for herself. She wasn't perfect, God knows that but… she was a good person." Tears burned in my gaze and I widened my eyes, looking up quickly and trying to blink them back.

"It's okay to cry, you know?" Her hands were on my chest now. I could feel her looking up at me.

I shook my head. "Did you call the funeral home?"

"Yes," she nodded quickly. "They'll handle all of the transport with her body. They said you could come by tomorrow or the next day to make arrangements. I wasn't sure what all to tell them over the phone."

"You're uh, you're still a perfectionist, right?" I sucked in a deep breath through tight lips, finally looking down at her.

"Uh– yes?" April answered hesitantly.

"Do you think that you could… help me make some of the arrangements for her funeral?" Even if they hadn't gotten along, I knew my mother. I knew that she would have wanted something perfect and memorable. She had always been extravagant in every way possible. "I–I know that… you didn't get along with her but I uh, I think I'm going to need help with the planning."

With more than the planning. I just can't say that part out loud yet.

"Of course," she was nodding again like a bobblehead doll. "Whatever you need, I'll be there. I'll do it."

I knew that I had said eerily similar words to her before.

Losing track of time as I stood there and stared through the glass at her covered body, I don't know what to do. It's late. Reasonably, I should go home and try to sleep but I can't imagine doing that right now. Standing here doesn't do anything. It only solidifies reality.

Something inside of me snapped suddenly and I turned on my heel, sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor beneath me as I began to take long strides back in the direction of where we had come in. I can hear April trying to keep up with me, her flats slapping against the floor so loudly that it nearly made my ears hurt. When had they become so loud? She would want to talk. I knew her. I just wasn't ready for that. I can't push her away, though – I don't have anywhere else or anyone else to go to, not really. I had meant it when I said that she was family. She was the only family that I had left now. My mother was dead.

"Shit!" I swore as I passed through the sliding doors, turning sharply. I don't know where I'm going. "Shit!" I yelled again. Without thinking, I slammed my fist into the wall.

"Jackson!" April squeaked out behind me, grabbing onto my arm. Even in the moonlight, I can see blood on my knuckles.

"It's fine, April," I shook my head. It's fine." I stretched out my fingers with a wince.

"You can't do that." Her voice was so firm that it almost had a maternal quality to it. "You can't. I know that you're upset right now and that you're hurting, but you can't hurt yourself more. That won't fix or change how you feel."

She's right, even if I don't want to hear it. "Do you want to drive?" I shifted topics.

"Promise me you won't do that again," April demanded.

"I promise," I sighed out, not sure if I mean it or not.

"Good. Yes, I'll drive."

Following her out to the car, I fall back into being quiet again. I don't want to get pissed off at her, but I was angry. Five stages of grief, I couldn't tell you the order, but for me, it was clear which two came at the exact same time: denial and anger. Anger was certainly stronger. But it still didn't feel right.

When we reach her house, I don't know where to go.

Her phone buzzed with another call and I let her go, blindly making my way to the couch in the living room after a few seconds. The calls had begun. Someone had leaked it to the media – at the hospital, the funeral home, I didn't know and it didn't really matter. The condolences would come any second, followed by the outcry of grief that happened with every death of someone famous. Then all of the memories and personal anecdotes. It was a process. I wasn't ready.

Sinking down onto the sofa, I turn my phone off. It's probably the wrong choice but it was the only one that I could manage right now. I don't want to talk to anyone about it, let alone people who were no doubt full of fake condolences or calling to make themselves feel better about what had happened to her. This just meant more press for the Avery family. I wanted to get far away from it, and now I'd have no choice. Our press tour was already coming up. I had suspected that they would aspect about my grandfather regardless, but now, this was just one more thing that was going to take away attention from the movie. Other distractions, I might not have minded. But this was too personal. I needed to stay away from social media and my phone.

"Babe?" April's voice called out gently, walking up from behind the couch. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders and chin rested on top of my head, hugging me from behind. "You should try and get some rest."

"I'm not tired." I sound like a child.

"Come to bed with me. Please?" She made it difficult to say no.

Getting up with a sigh, I followed her through the house to her bedroom. I stripped down into my boxers before laying flat on my back under the covers with her. She tried to curl up against me, but I don't have it in me tonight to hold her. Instead, I rolled onto my side, facing away from her. I could feel her still for a few seconds before April adjusted, her arm wrapping around me and making herself the big spoon.

April fell asleep after a few minutes, but I didn't.

I know time will help. This isn't my first loss, but it is the hardest. Now, I was an orphan. I had no idea whether my biological father was actually alive but I had always just assumed that he was dead because it was easier that way. Losing a parent in childhood significantly raises the risk of developing mental health issues, and about one in twenty children aged fifteen and under suffered the loss of one or both parents. I remembered the facts from my psychology classes. I'm not a child anymore and I haven't been for a long time. Yet I felt as lost as one. For men, they were also at higher risk of physical health problems developing after. Maybe I needed to see a cardiologist. One could tell me my heart was healthy. It wouldn't change how I felt.

There was something comforting about having April curled around me like this. It had been a long time since I had really been held by someone like this. My mother was probably the last person who had held me, truly held me. She'd worked a lot when I was young, but when I was sick, she had always made time to be there for me. This felt like that. I sighed and shut my eyes, focusing solely on April holding me. I didn't want to push her away, even if she was reminding me painfully of my mother. I can't ignore her or the truth.

When I wake up in the morning, she's no longer curled around me but I'm not alone in the bed. She was sitting up on her laptop and typing away faster than any human being should have been possible at. I peak at her screen, see my mother's name, and turn away again.

"Morning," she reached over and rubbed my back. "Breakfast?"

"No, not hungry." I didn't say that very often.

"Okay," April glanced back at me. "Well, do you want to go to the funeral home today? Or tomorrow?"

I sighed. "Today." My hand ran over my face. "Get it over with."

"That sounds good." She reached over and rubbed my knee affectionately. "But you should eat something still. How about at least one of those protein bars you have in the pantry, huh?"

"Fine." It would be easier than trying to resist.

"I'll go get one." She gave a quick pat of my knee before getting off of my bed.

Laying back with a flop against my pillow for a few more moments, a heavy sigh escaped from my mouth. I was going to have to get through the day with a straight face. How I was going to do that… I had no idea. There was no guide for this. No, scratch that – there probably was. But whatever it said, it was probably full of a bunch of bullshit.

When April returned with one of my Cliff bars from the pantry, I unwrapped it and ate it without getting out of bed. I shouldn't be this upset. I had no right to be upset when we had barely been speaking to each other. But she was still my mother. She had given birth to me, she had made sure that I had everything. Even if she hadn't been there every second of every day with how much she had worked, she had always made sure that everything I could have needed was there. Almost everything. I couldn't fault her for what she had done. She had been a working woman and a single mom. She wasn't perfect and I had turned out just fine. She had done her best. I knew that she had loved me. Every parent was different in their methodology and she was no exception.

Tears burned in my eyes and I crumbled the wrapper in my fist tightly, looking down. I didn't realize that April had turned away from the laptop and looked at me again until her hand was on my thigh and giving it a little shake, trying to get me to look up at her. But I don't. I don't want her to see me cry. I don't even want to recognize that I'm crying in the first place. I had to bury it back down. I couldn't do this.

"Jackson, it's okay to cry. You know that, right?" She murmured gently.

"I uh, I should get dressed." I brushed off, finally forcing myself out of the bed and toward the bathroom, shutting the door.

Turning on the faucet, it seemed pointless to splash any of the water on my face as I had originally planned. Tears keep falling despite my efforts to blink them back. I stand there until there are none left to come out, bending over and splash cold water on my face. Drying my face with a hand towel, I stand there for a few minutes longer before walking out of the bathroom.

April had changed while I was in the bathroom. I didn't say a word to her as I got some of the clothes that I had kept here out of the dresser, changing into a fresh pair of clothes and putting on deodorant. There was nothing else to be done and no other way to procrastinate the inevitable.

No interest in getting behind the wheel at the moment, I stare at my phone on the drive to the funeral home. I send an email to my doctor and ask if I can come in to get some bloodwork done to make sure that things were fine – to make sure that I wasn't having any of the same problems that she might have been having. I'd never thought about my health that seriously. I was thirty-three, why should I? I was at the peak of physical fitness. Even if my mother hadn't been fit, I had always assumed that she was just about as healthy as she could have been with her size and weight. I was wrong about that.

Everything in the funeral home moves with a blur. The condolences come and I barely manage to utter a reply out. April makes most of the arrangements, looking back at me for approval and all I can do is give a nod. I'd have to go through my mother's contacts for a proper invitation list but I knew that it would be a big funeral. That was what she would have wanted. Seeing all of those names and faces would be another long walk down memory lane.

Which is why when we're home again, all I can do is hand her phone over to April once it's unlocked and have her go through it. It's not fair to her, but she doesn't say a word to complain. She just does it.

Days before the funeral come and go. I don't keep up with all of the condolences that come in the form of letters and voicemails and messages across social media. I stay off my laptop all together letting April use it for funeral arrangements and whatever else she might have needed. I find myself silent in the days that pass. It was a good thing we were staying in a place that was hers and not my own. It keeps a few ghosts from haunting me. But some of them still manage to slip through the cracks – a song coming on the radio, a commercial that I knew would make her roll her eyes, seeing movies that she had worked on now playing on the television. Somehow, she was everywhere. I couldn't turn away from her and I couldn't turn off those feelings, even if it was the only thing that I wanted to do right now.

Her funeral was an open casket. I look at her once in it, beautiful as always, and can't bring myself to do it again.

That night, the two of us lay in bed together without a word. She was reading some book that she had picked up in Colorado. I was staring at the ceiling. I didn't have the focus to try to read or attempt to go through any of the messages on my phone. Concentrating had been difficult no matter what the task was lately.

"Jackson," April demanded my attention, shutting her book loudly as she moved toward me.

"Yeah?" I muttered, turning my head toward her.

"You can't do this forever, Jackson, you do realize that, right?" Her eyes were wide despite the furrow of her brows. "You can't just shut me out like you're doing. I know that you are grieving and I am so, so sorry for what you're going through right now. But… you cannot just shut down and push out the rest of the world. You can't just stay in bed all day and that's it, tuning out the rest of the world. You have to open up at some point. You have to be willing to talk about it at some point."

"I'm not…" I sighed, shaking my head and looking back at the ceiling. "I'm not pushing you out. I just don't know what you expect to me. She's…" I hesitated to say the words out loud. "She's dead. I have nothing else to say about it."

It was the first time that I had actually said that. I had thought it, but I had never said it.

"We have already been through something that was terrible and you were there for me the entire time, whenever I needed someone to talk to or a shoulder to cry on. You were there for me. But now, I'm trying to be there for you, and you're not letting me. This relationship should be a relationship fo equals. But as long as you're pushing me out like this, you're saying it's not that. And I don't want to be making ultimatums, or anything like that, but… I can't do this if it's not going to be a relationship with the two of us on equal footing." She continued. There's nothing wrong about the words coming out of her mouth. It's just the fact that I don't want to hear them.

"I'm not pushing you out, okay?" My voice was louder than I intended. "I just don't have anything to say about it. What happened happened, and there's nothing that I can do to change it. I wasn't there to say goodbye to her. I can't even remember the last time that I told her I loved her."

So much of that time had been spent with April instead of my own family. Even if it probably wouldn't have been spent with my own family regardless, I can't help but associate her with some of the guilt that I felt right now. I could have been with her, working tighter with her on the donation that had been made in our family name, the photoshoots that I was scheduled to work on. Now, going through with all of that… I had to, in her name and her memory. Except for the idea of it just seemed agonizing. It had been her idea. Her work and her money. Not mine.

Well, technically it was mine now. I didn't know what her will was, but I assumed.

"Don't do this, Jackson, please." Her hand was on my arm. I don't pull away. "I don't like this. This idea that you can be there for me but I'm not allowed to be there for you."

"That's not what's happening here," I disagreed with a shake of my head.

"Then what is it?" She questioned.

Chewing at the inside of my cheek, I don't have an answer for her. Not a good one, not even some kind of shitty one to try and half-ass my way out of this conversation. I can't think of a damn thing to tell her to try and get myself out of it. The only hit that I could do was dig my grave deeper.

Fuck, I hated that expression.

"My entire family is gone." I blurted out with a sigh and shut my eyes.

"What about me?" April asked.

"My entire family except for you is gone." I looked over at her, finally meeting her gaze dead in the eye. "And, in part, is gone because of you. I know that Harper did what he did and there's nothing that anyone could have done to change that except for him. But it's possible that all of the stress might have also contributed to the heart attack that my mother had. It's not your fault. I know that, rationally, it's not your fault. I can't help but associate some of it with you."

This time, the tears were in her eyes as she stared back at me.

"You say that you're not blaming me but it certainly feels like you're blaming me right now, Jackson." She had pulled her hand away from me as she sat up entirely, slouching forward. "Why would you say something like that to me?"

"You said that you wanted me to talk." I reminded her, sighing. "That's what you said. You can't get upset with me when I'm doing exactly what you asked me to."

"I'm allowed to get upset, Jackson!" April snapped at me.

"That's– that's not what I meant, you know that's not what I meant." I shook my head.

"That's exactly what you just said." She clenched her jaw. "Yeah, see? That goes both ways."

Falling silent for a few seconds, I pushed my hands on either side of me and sat up slowly so that we were closer to being on the same eye level. This was a hard conversation to have. I wasn't sure if there was an easy way to go about it. I couldn't help the way that I felt, the association that was there. I remembered my education well – correlation was not causation. I knew that. I didn't blame her for any of it even if the lingering feelings were still there and difficult to try and ignore. But I didn't really blame her. It was just a matter of convincing her of that now.

"I don't blame you for what happened. That's what I'm saying." My hands clasped together so tightly that I can see the veins in my arms bulging. "But this is part of the issue, okay? Why I can't talk about it. I don't know how to say what I want to say."

"I wish that there was something I could do to help." April murmured, forlorn as her eyes met mine again.

I don't say another word. Instead, I close the gap between the two of us and grab her face a bit roughly between my hands, pulling her toward me with a firm kiss. She's warm and inviting, her body soft compared to the hard planes of mine, the kind of exact softness and kindness that I needed right now even if I couldn't manage to get the right words out of my mouth in the process. I wanted her. No, I needed her. In a way that was more than just physical, I needed all of her, every piece of her by my side. Underneath me and on top of me. I just needed her. All of her.

The kiss was returned but it was short lived. Her lips moved against mine for a few seconds to return it, much more chaste than I was. Eventually, she pulled away from me, placing her hands on my chest to keep me at a small distance. I stared at her for a few seconds, trying to read her face.

"What?" I questioned.

"This isn't going to fix anything." April murmured, placing her hand on my face as she looked up at me. "You have to realize that this isn't going to fix anything. You'll feel better for a few minutes, sure, but it's not going to stop anything that's going on in your head right now."

I sighed, leaning back. "What do you want me to do, April? What do you want from me?"

"I want you to just be honest with me, Jackson. Honest without being mean. That's intentional, isn't it? Just mean enough to try and push me away so you don't have to really feel anything?" She accused me.

Huh. I hadn't considered that – it wasn't a conscious effort. But maybe she was right.

"I don't know if you're right or not," I admitted quietly.

"We have to figure this out." She scratched the back of her neck. "We have to figure out how to be a normal couple, Jackson. I know that we don't have a normal life and that we're never going to. I know that and you've made sure that I know that. But I need to make sure that you know that we are capable of getting through this together. That you don't have to be alone in what you're doing right now, okay? You're not alone. I'm right here, and I'm going to be here for you, just like you have been there for me. That's more than just planning the funeral. Whatever you need."

A normal couple. It was a nice thought, but I wasn't sure that it was more than that. Maybe we had moved fast and we had both been playing ourselves to not think otherwise. There it was, doubt alongside the guilt that I had been feeling. So much for getting rid of either none.

"And what if the only thing that I need right now is just to be alone?" I rubbed the backs of my eyes with both hands.

April sat up straighter than before, her arms crossing in front of her ribs and clutching onto each other like she was hugging herself. She was stiffer than I had expected – then again, I hadn't been thinking enough to have any kind of realistic expectations to how she would react to my words. I knew that she wouldn't like them. But it didn't seem like she was going to like anything that I said right now unless I was on my knees and begging for her help. But the truth was, that wasn't that I needed. That wasn't going to help. I didn't know what would. Her jaw clenched together and I watched her take a deep breath before she spoke again.

"What exactly are you trying to say to me, Jackson?" April asked after a few seconds of silence.

"I don't know," I sighed out with a shake of my head.

"Well, it seems like there's something that you're trying to say." She wet her lips.

"I don't know…" I repeated the words, leaning back against the headboard. "I really don't. I don't know what I need right now. You have been hovering and asking questions and making all of the arrangements and I appreciate that, I do. I promise that I do. But I'm just at an impasse right now and I don't know what to do. Maybe some time to myself would help me figure things out." Or maybe it wouldn't. At this point, I had no idea.

"Jackson, I don't think that's a good idea." She shook her head. "The last thing that you should be is alone right now. That's the last thing. You need people around you to support you right now. And I want to be that for you."

Tightening my jaw, I shook my head. "I uh, I'm saying that I want to be alone for a bit." Slowly, I got out of the bed. It was late. I didn't have anywhere else to do, but there were plenty of hotels in the city. "That's what I want right now, okay? I'm sorry, April. I just think that we should have some time apart while I deal with this."

"Jackson." She repeated my name as I began to grab my things from the nightstand, sliding my feet into my shoes in a haste. "Jackson, please don't do this. This isn't a good idea. This won't be healthy for you. I swear, I know what it's like to be alone when you lose your family. I lost mine. Even if they aren't dead, I lost them too. You know that. That's how I can tell you that this is a bad idea." She was begging. I couldn't bring myself to turn back and look at her.

"I'm sorry, April." I don't say another word, walking out of what had been our place. Now, it was just her place.


	13. Chapter 13

**_ APRIL _ **

It feels like shit to find out just how real being dumped was through Twitter.

_AVERY ALONE: GRANDFATHER JAILED, MOTHER DEAD, AND NOW SINGLE._

Jackson had told me that he wanted space, to be alone for a bit. I had been more than willing to respect that. I hadn't realized that it meant we were breaking up. I hadn't told a single soul about what had happened between Jackson and myself even though it may have seemed obvious to anyone watching me. With no work on my agenda, I stay at home a lot. It's better than being spotted out in public and adding fuel to the fire. Someone in his camp had let loose the fact that he had broken up with me. I wasn't sure if it was him or maybe a friend. Hell, maybe one of the women that he was shooting for The Rape Foundation had asked and he had let it slip. The list of possibilities was endless and not having a real answer just made it even more painful. It also made it that much harder to turn off social media.

I read through _Sharp Objects_ by Gillian Flynn twice, and watch the HBO miniseries with Amy Adams. It was an incredible role and no wonder that it was as popular as it was. That was the kind of role that I wanted to do next – something gritty and dark, without playing the bad guy. I empathized too easily to play a villain. There was no way I could do it without excusing something horrible.

To try and slow the plethora of questions that had come at me through Twitter about what was and wasn't going on with Jackson, I do tweet about watching the series and some praise toward Amy. It only distracts about half of the notifications that I saw before I log right back out again, knowing that it was a bad idea to watch it carefully. No matter what was going on, what kind of media storm was occurring, it could drive you crazy. I want to look up things going on with Jackson, but it felt wrong and creepy no matter how I tried to justify it to myself. I didn't want to be that girl.

So I workout.

Yoga every morning, bright and early, slipping in and out the back door to avoid too many people seeing me there in the first place. The first two days it's great, and then the soreness starts to kick in as I push my body past the point that it was typically comfortable with. I can't do all of the same poses that I could before, even a downward dog would get my wrist sore after a while, but I'm too stubborn to respect the pain in my wrist.

I get my hair done and my nails done, I get waxed, none of which is necessary given that I have nowhere to be. I come within five minutes of cutting off the majority of my length and decide against it as I walk into the salon. There would be some stupid article theorizing that it was about Jackson. Maybe it would have been. But I leave it long, only taking off the split ends.

My phone buzzed against the nightstand, louder than I was expecting. I had taken a long shower and not gotten dressed after, instead, sitting on top of my bed and looking at books on my tablet.

"Hello?" I answered with the typical question in my voice even after reading the caller ID.

"Hey, Kepner." Amelia's alto tones answer on the other line. "Are you busy?"

"Nope," I popped the syllable, stretching out my legs to adjust how I was sitting. "What's up?"

"Good, 'cause I've got some questions." Oh boy. "I just got done with my photoshoot with Jackson. He's great with the camera, by the way, he told me that you said you didn't want to do this and I don't know why because you'd be perfect for it. But even though he was a total professional, the second that we were done? Oh my god, he was a miserable jackass. You two really did break up, didn't you?" I'd forgotten that was today. I should have seen this phone call coming.

"Yeah, I guess we did." I sighed out, wetting my lips. "I don't know. It was a little more black and white than that. Or at least, I thought that it was, but I guess he's telling people that it wasn't. So I don't really know."

"Hold on, what?" Amelia interrupted before I could go any further. "What does that mean?"

I sighed. "I don't know. He was hurting so badly after his mother died and I wanted to help but he pushed me away."

"And you let him?" The way that she said it made me feel stupid.

"Yeah…" I breathed out slowly. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"Not let him." She stated it as if it was obvious. "Listen, when my father died? That fucked me up. I was only five, but even when I got older, it was still screwing me up. You can't let him be alone unless you want him to spiral out. I know that everyone processes it differently or whatever, but he needs to know that you're there and you're still thinking of him. Even if he dumped you. You gotta do something different."

My head leaned back against my pillow, wet hair splaying out beneath me. I had felt guilty when he had walked out, but I didn't know what else to do at the time. I wanted to respect him, to have boundaries – because I would have wanted him to do the exact same thing for me if the positions were reversed. At least, that's what I thought. It was easy to say when I wasn't the one going through it.

"So what do I do now?" I questioned feebly.

"I'm not an instruction manual." There was the typical Amelia sass that I was familiar with. "I can't tell you what to do other than you need to do something."

A few seconds of silence passed before I spoke again. "Was he really that bad?"

"I mean, he got the job done. The shots looked good. But…" she paused. "I don't know, after, he was just different. I don't know him that well but he's not the same guy that he was before. I don't really know what to tell you."

"So I guess that I need to do something now." What was the bigger question.

"Yeah, duh." This time the sass earned a roll of my eyes.

"Thanks for calling, Amelia," I say despite the little bit of irritation there, smiling though she couldn't see me. "I appreciate the heads up. I'll figure out something that I can do for him."

That was the least that I could do now, clearly.

Getting up and dressed so I didn't accidentally spend the majority of my day sitting on top of my bed naked and staring at my laptop, I don't bother doing anything with my hair or putting on makeup before I lay down on my stomach and settle in front of my laptop. I open up Google, staring at it for a few seconds as I try to decide what to type into the search engine.

How to help a grieving friend. Boyfriend's mother died. Boyfriend broke up with me after mother died.

All of the searches and more go into Google and I feel more and more ridiculous with each one that I type in and hit enter. Most of the answers that come up are Yahoo Answers or Reddit, nothing too serious. It's hard to say if that made it better or worse. Anecdotes could be good, but there wasn't a lot of certainty with it. Dealing with anxiety for so many years taught me that. Some things that helped other people could make an experience absolute hell for me.

Yet despite the ridiculousness that I feel as I look through page after page of advice and tips, I keep going until I can't think of anything else to Google until answer after answer is just repeat after repeat.

Communication was something that I had thought we were good at, but maybe that was only when we were always around each other and talking about things. Maybe it was easy when the things that we were talking about had some kind of clear plan, some action that could immediately follow what was going on. When he had been by my side throughout the Harper Avery scandal, it had always been about taking the next steps, how we were going to proceed. The same had been true as we had finished shooting the movie together. Even when we were in New York, we had time to plan out of day together, try to squeeze in time for one another. But now? It's radio silence. I try to call, but he doesn't pick up the phone.

Leaving him a voicemail doesn't feel right. I'm not sure whether or not he would listen to it – I'd like to think that he was, whenever he was ready, but I didn't know how long that might have taken him to be. Time was supposed to help but it had been over two weeks now and he still wasn't answering. Soon, he would have to see me whether or not he wanted to. I wanted things to be resolved before then.

_[Sent] Hey. I just wanted to check in._

The text message is sent early in the day and I don't have an answer but the time that I was laying down to get in bed. Thinking about him before bed is natural. I missed curling up with him. He was like a warm, firm body pillow.

_[Sent] I miss you._

Still, after waiting a few minutes, no answer. At least his read receipts weren't on. That would have hurt more.

_[Sent] I hope that you're doing better. But if you're not, you should talk to someone, even if it's not me. The therapist that I see is really nice. She's helped me for years. Her name is Cristina Yang. You can Google her if you want. She has a lot of great reviews. I've never had a single leak from her over the years._

It felt like sending some kind of bat signal to him. Amelia had said that I needed to help, needed to do something to communicate. Maybe I wasn't the one that he wanted to talk to, but at least I could still be there somewhere, through someone else. Maybe he would see her, even if it was only one time. I knew that grief was natural and that people experienced it in so many ways. I had been broken after leaving home and forced myself to work nonstop. He wasn't like that. I didn't know what he was doing now, no matter how much I wanted to know. I was too nosy.

_[Received] Thank you._

The sudden bright light of my phone screen lighting up as I was ready to drift off to sleep startled me awake again, but it was a relief to see a message from him finally returned. I don't reply, not wanting to push it, but it felt like something. A sign.

Two days later, I have to get out of the house, whether I want to or not. Owen wanted to meet to discuss future plans and even though it was normally something that the two of us would do in private, he didn't like the fact that I had been hiding away from the rest of the world. He didn't like how it looked. So he made reservations for us at a sidewalk cafe. I put on a hat and sunglasses to try and draw away clarity from my face, but I knew that people would still see us and take pictures.

"It's nice to see you getting out and some sun, April. I've been worried about you." Owen said sympathetically.

"I appreciate that, but you don't need to be worried about me." I gave him a small smile.

"Someone ought to be," he pointed out. "So I may as well take that role myself since I don't see someone else stepping up to do it. What they're saying about you and Jackson, is it true?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it is."

"I'm sorry to hear about that. I thought that you two were a good fit. I would have never guessed it going into that movie, but hell, I wouldn't have guessed most of what ended up happening there." He paused to take a sip of his water. "It ended up being much more than you signed up for, I know that."

"I thought that we were too." The words slipped out of my lips. It took me a few seconds to realize that I had actually said them out loud and not just kept them inside of my head. When I realize it, my cheeks warm up. "But what happened with the movie – it's fine. I mean, obviously fine isn't the right word for it, but you know what I mean. It's okay now."

"You have the press tour coming up." As if I needed the reminder. "How do you think that's going to go?"

"I'm not sure," I wet my lips. I reached for my water and took a sip.

"I know that you're a professional at your core. You never miss a step or falter." It's pressure to live up to. But he was mostly right. I didn't, not in public. "I don't know him as well. But it would be good for both of you to find a way to smooth things out. I'm not saying that you need to get back together, but you do need to be able to work together as if nothing happened in the first place."

"His mother just died a few weeks ago," I reminded Owen. "It's not about me and him having some catfight or anything like that. It's… it's just about that. The grief. I don't know how to help him. I want to help him, so badly, but he pushed me away right off the bat and… I let him when I shouldn't have. Now I don't know how to weasel my way back in."

"You have a joint interview with Access Hollywood coming up." The movie was still in post-production, it would be for a couple more weeks, but they wanted weeks and weeks of press leading up to the event. They were trying to make sure that the movie wasn't affected by sexists boycotting because I was a woman and not a man, with compensation in the form of press. It meant that I would have to put on the face. There would be no other choice. He would have to put it on, too. "Nine days."

"I know." My answer is short, snippy.

"Okay…" Owen physically leaned away from me. "Let's talk about your future. Beyond this project."

"Yes, please." I rubbed the back of my eyelids with my fingertips, trying to rid myself of that exhaustion. I don't want to snap at him anymore. He was just trying to help, I knew that at my core.

He smiled. "What are you thinking about right now?"

"HBO." Definitely not because of the nudity, but because of how gritty it was how unafraid the network was of going in deep. "I want something tough and gritty, but not a repeat of anything I've done before. Maybe something with mental illness, even. Not anxiety. That just hits too close to home but, I want something new and deep and meaningful. It doesn't have to be HBO, I'm not being picky, I just want something that means something."

That was all that I ever really wanted.

"Okay. I'll send a few scripts your way as they hit my table."

"Thank you."

Talking about the future is a reminder that there is still a huge one in front of me no matter what was going on in the present. Things would change. Almost everything was temporary. Pain, discomfort, even agony – all of it came and went, ebbed and flowed, even if in the moments that it was there, it seemed to be impossibly long.

I liked to think that I had changed since I was a child. I had been hotheaded and impulsive, I had always acted before thinking. That had its perks now that I was older, now that I knew better – even if I could still be theatrical and emotional, I had learned to think first. I had learned to plan out my every move. Mapping it out to make sure that I always knew exactly what I was getting myself into before I was in too deep. Sure, I had perhaps taken it too far with becoming such a perfectionist and a control freak, but it seemed to be better than the alternative was. I had gotten closer to finding the middle ground but all of the planning for Catherine's funeral, needing it to be perfect not only for myself but for him, that had sent me back in that direction again.

One thing that hadn't changed since I was little was what I wanted out of life. I wanted to be a wife and a mother, to a good man and to beautiful children, I wanted to pass on my knowledge of the world. I wanted to have faith in the good, even when it wasn't always so visible. At least the latter was something that I could do and work on right now. I didn't have to depend on a man or anyone else to allow that piece of me to grow. I just had to be willing to do it. That just happened to be another matter.

_[Sent] Can we talk soon?_

A small start, trying to close some of the distance that had been placed between us. By him or just the circumstances, I'm not entirely sure. I don't want things between us to be over and done, though. That was something that I did know with some kind of certainty.

_[Received] We'll see each other in a couple of days._

It wasn't quite a rejection but it still managed to carry a sting with it. It definitely wasn't a yes.

By the time that I'm sitting in hair and makeup with Jo, I couldn't tell if I was more excited or nervous to see him again. I sit back and watch my hair turn into big waves with a middle part, a little different than how I usually wore it just from the part itself. My eye makeup is a little darker than usual, too. It made me look like a little bit of a badass, combined with the black trousers and blazer with nothing beneath. It had been picked out for me, smartly so.

"Deluca just texted me," Jo commented, phone in one hand as she put down the hairspray. "Avery's running late."

"Oh," I breathed up, eyes flickering up to hers in the mirror. "Okay."

"When was the last time that you two saw each other?" She asked, pocketing her phone.

"Uh…" I wet my lips, careful about the lip stain. "Not since we broke up. We texted a little."

"Yikes." Not exactly the kind of reassurance that I had been hoping for. "Are you sure about today? It's not going to be too weird between you both? 'Cause this is the first press interview you're doing together which means that it's kind of a big deal."

I groaned. "Yes. I'm very aware of that. Thank you, Jo."

"I'm just throwing it out there. Not trying to make you feel any worse about it." I knew that she was being honest. "And my guess is that he was running late because he was dreading coming here himself."

"Or because he's depressed about his mother's death. It's his first appearance since that happened. I know that his agent asked them not to ask about our relationship, but as far as I know, that's not off limits. Neither is Harper Avery." There were too many opportunities there. "That's kind of a lot of pressure for him to be under."

"Well, you're not wrong," Jo remarked, fixing a fly away. "You really love him, don't you?"

"What?" It was true – the remark had just come out of nowhere.

"You really love him. Even now, after he dumped you and the entire world knows about it, you're still here and defending him when I wasn't even really being mean in the first place. You only do that for someone that you love." Her expression was satisfied as she spoke. It was the truth, deep down. Even if I wanted to try to lie about it, it was clear that she wouldn't believe me.

"I guess I do," I confessed with a sigh.

She squealed. "Good! Because you two are going to get back together. If it doesn't happen naturally, I'll make it."

"Since when are you so invested in my relationship status?" I turned back to look at her properly.

"I've been doing your hair and makeup for a long time, April. And as much as I love your beautiful face, it is never as easy to work with as it has been when you're with him. You glow. You're happy. That makes a difference. Consider me invested in my client." Her shoulders gave a cutesy shrug.

"I don't know." I shook my head. "I don't know if it's that black and white."

Jo dragged a stool over and sat down so that she was on eye level with me. "What do you mean?"

"It's just that when we got together, it was black and white. I was… a victim and so was Amelia, and his grandfather was a perpetrator. He was on my side because he was a good guy. Then we spent all this time together working on a movie and playing lovers, so of course, we bonded there, too. But now it's not black and white. It's a push and a pull and there's no clear right or wrong." I rambled on. "I don't know how to go about that. It's hard."

"Relationships aren't meant to be easy." She leaned against the dresser. "You're old enough that you should know that, no offense. If everything was black and white, everyone would be married and no one would ever get divorced. Since when is anything in the world that easy?"

"It isn't." I sighed out.

"Exactly. See? You know that. You have a choice to make, you both do. You can put in the work to make it work, which you should because it's clear that you love each other. Or you just don't. Whine about it ben hard. But then you'll never have a real relationship that works."

My face fell with a glare. "Okay, that was a little mean."

"Maybe. But I'm still right." She stated smugly.

"I know."

In a way, what Jo had told me wasn't that different than what Amelia said. Some work had to be put in. Even though it was one of those things that had to come in from both parties, he had done a portion of carrying when things had been easier – now, it was my turn to share some of the weight.

Stepping out of hair and makeup and trying to put on a brave face, the interview was already there and ready for the both of us. I beat Jackson there. We make small talk that I can only manage to put half a heart in because truthfully, all I could think about was Jackson. I knew that he was somewhere else in the building. He would be here soon. I just had to buckle down with some patience and make it through the interview, then hopefully, he would be willing to give both of us the opportunity to talk once all of it was over. At this point, that was all I could hope for.

He cleared his throat to announce his presence and my spine straightened quickly as I shot up, turning over my head to see him. There was already a chair there waiting for him, right next to me. It would have been easy to reach for him or hold his hand, but I knew that I shouldn't do that. Even if things still felt fuzzy between us, it wasn't an action to take in front of the camera without talking about it first.

"Hey," Jackson spoke up. "Sorry about being late."

"It's okay." The host chirped, offering a cheery smile. "Glad you're here, Jackson. We're just about to start."

"Are you okay?" I leaned over toward him, momentarily turning away from our interviewer.

"Yeah." He gave a short nod of his head, unconvincing.

I leaned closer. "Are you sure? I was thinking after, maybe we could…"

"Let's just get this started, alright?" It was clear he was speaking to more than me as he fixed the microphone on his black button down shirt. He was wearing all black, too. We were matching one another, but it seemed like being synchronized was only reflected in our appearances.

The fake smile is placed on my face, the one that the world knew all too well.

As the cameras begin rolling and the questions and discussion about the movie begin, I try to remain as focused on the moment as I can. It's easy to talk about the role and why I was so excited about it, how fortunate I was to be able to take on such an iconic role and to be the first female to do so. There was plenty there to talk about, all of it well rehearsed. I had been going over these answers both in my head and with the people around me for months now.

But my heart isn't there no matter how I try and force it out. Instead, it felt as if it was resting inside of Jackson's hands, giving a little squeeze now and then whenever we laughed together or made eye contact with one another.

I missed him.

It was easier to sit back and let him talk about his family, his loss, even if it hurt to listen. Yet there was something familiar about the words that he was saying as she asked him how he was coping with the loss of his mother. The way that he talked about it, the exact words that he used as he spoke about how he was learning to live with the grief and missing her every day, in and out… I had heard something far too similar to those words in the past. It sounded just like some of the words that Cristina had preached to me when it came to taking a realistic handle on grief and learning how to continue going each day, no matter what challenges were presented my way. He had listened. He had gone to see her. I knew it.

Something about knowing that makes it a little easier to keep the corners of my mouth tilted upward toward my eyes and lift some of the weight from my shoulders. Even if I hadn't been there, holding his hand through it, I had been able to do something for him. I couldn't tell if he was faking it or not. Maybe it had genuinely helped him. Thank God Amelia had gotten me to reach out.

"Jackson, April, thank you both so much for coming out here and speaking with us today," the anchor began her sign off. "I think I'm speaking for all of us here when I say that we cannot wait to see the two of you on the big screen together."

"Thank you so much."

"Thank you." As Jackson thanked her, he reached over toward me and took my hand. I felt my heart flutter.

The cameras shut off on the other side and he gave my hand a soft squeeze. I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath before I turned to look at him again and gave him a smile. He must have known that I knew. Maybe he had said those words deliberately, just for me. Or maybe I was crazy and reaching, looking for a sign that wasn't there. Either way, I needed to know the truth.

"Can we talk?" I asked eagerly.

"Yeah, sure," he breathed out with a nod of his head. "Somewhere private."

"Of course," I agreed too quickly. "My car is in the parking garage if that's okay. And it's private, no one should interrupt."

Less than conventional, but it should work.

Getting untangled from the microphones that we were both set up with, getting away from everyone doesn't take long. Small talk and autographs are always wanted, that kind of thing, but it was easy enough to make it fly by. People liked a little compliment here and there, a smile and a hug, and it was enough to make them overwhelmingly happy. I was a people pleaser but I wanted to get out of there.

We walk separately out to my car after I let him know where it was, not wanting to alert anyone at the station that we were talking privately. That would have been something that they would have loved, I knew that for sure. It could have been used as some excuse for breaking news, it could have headlined along with the interview between the two of us. That was the kind of pressure added that neither one of us wanted. Even if things couldn't be black and white, that was just an extra layer of complications that was better left avoided. Not until the two of us were on a more stable footing.

Reaching my car first, I unlock it and get in, sitting in the driver's seat. I scoot back in the chair to give myself some extra space, tucking one leg beneath the other. A few minutes pass before there was a knock on the driver's seat window with Jackson's face on the other side. I unlocked it immediately.

"Hi," I turned up the heat in my car. "Let me know if it's too hot or cold."

"It's fine," he answered.

Silence passed between us for a few seconds as we tried to figure out where we were supposed to go. There was no clear path for how to talk about it. Sure, I had done all of the Googling possible to try and prepare myself for this meeting. Yet sitting there in the car, it's suddenly as if I hadn't read a damn thing in the world, like some newborn crying out for help.

"I'm going to be perfectly honest, I feel like an idiot." I blurted out. "I knew that you wanted some space but I didn't actually realize that we were breaking up until I saw it in the news. Sources close to you…"

"I– April, I didn't say anything to anyone." Jackson shook his head. "That wasn't the intention."

My eyebrows shot up. "Wait, what?"

"I wanted some space and some time alone, but I didn't want to end things. I just wanted to get a grip on how I was feeling and… I knew that I was going to be a dick to you if you were around. And I knew that you would let me be one. You'd think it was helping when really, it wouldn't help either one of us. It'd just make things even worse. Hell, it would have definitely made you want to break up with me." He explained, rubbing the back of his head. "I've missed you. And I still love you."

"God, I…" I slouched back. "I feel like an idiot, listening to the headlines without even talking to you about it. Wow. I should have felt like an idiot. I was just feeling that way for the wrong reason, apparently."

"You're not an idiot, April." He reached over, placing his hand on my knee and giving it a squeeze. "Shit's complicated."

"Yeah, it is." I sighed out. "Shit is complicated."

"So what now?"

That was the big question, lingering in the air between the two of us. I couldn't figure it out. But maybe that was one of those things that I wasn't meant to figure out, maybe it was something that the two of us were meant to do together. That was what couples did most of the time, wasn't it? That was what Jo had been talking about. Figuring out the complicated stuff together.

"We're going to figure it out." I placed my hand on top of his, fingers fitting in the spaces between his and giving it a little squeeze. "We will, won't we? Can we do that?"

"Yeah," Jackson nodded. "Yeah. I think that we can. But…"

Just when I thought things were falling into place. "But what?"

"Maybe it would be a good idea to slow things down, just a little bit." He didn't let go of my hand as he spoke. "We're going back to working together again and I know that means that things are probably going to start working well. But I don't want either one of us to just be depending on that to make things work because we're not always going to be working together, you know? We need to take it easy and make sure that we're the ones making it work, that it's not just the work that's making it work. Does that make sense?"

"I…" Of course, it did make sense. There wasn't any kind of fault in his logic even if it does still some of the excitement that I had felt building inside of me. It was logical. "Yeah, that makes sense." I nodded my head in agreement, wetting my lips. "Making it work because of us, not because of the work. Yeah, okay, that makes sense."

"Okay." He agreed with a nod of his head, looking over at me.

His gaze was on my lips, a deep maroon from the stain that Jo had put on it before the interview. There was nothing subtle about the way that he was looking at me. Leaning forward, I pressed my lips into his and kissed him firmly. It's tempting to slip a little tongue but I try to keep it tame for the sake of the very thing that had just discussed. Even if sex was an easy way to make the both of us feel better, it had been more than that. No matter how tempting it sounded to slide over and ride him in the damn car right now.

"Jackson…" I muttered against his lips when we finally broke for oxygen.

"Mmhm, princess?" There it was, that little nickname that managed to give my heart palpitations. Maybe he was giving it back to me, like something to share.

"I need you to know that I still love you. A lot." I looked up at him with wide eyes.

His hand came up and cupped my face for a brief moment, his thumb stroking along my cheekbone before he tucked a bit of dislodged hair back behind my ear. The smile on his face was soft and sincere, not the same one that he offered to the rest of the world. It felt like something that was reserved just for me.

"I still love you too, April."


	14. Chapter 14

**_ JACKSON _ **   
_  
You are going to be late._

Even if my mother was no longer with me physically, her voice still managed to have a presence in my head. So many years of my life had been spent trying to tune it out and now she managed to have a role there either way – too late for me to really appreciate it, but at least I was capable of recognizing that now.

It was a movie premiere for another movie, some action movie called _Retaliation_. I didn't know personally either one of the stars but April said that she had worked with the male star before a few years prior. I'd done a quick Google search and he had one of those familiar but otherwise forgettable faces. We had both agreed to dress somewhat casually for the premiere since neither one of us were involved in the project but we were just doing some more press work and advertisement for the movie. I had put on a pair of black dress pants and a black sweater on top, chains thrown on her it so it's not quite as monochrome as it would be. April hadn't told me what she was wearing so I figured black would be an easy way to match with her.

Checking the time on my watch, I was running just a little bit later than I had planned. That had been pretty much the norm for me these days, always cutting it close with everywhere I was going. It seemed like I got distracted it easier than I would have liked these days. Maybe the stress of the past year had finally begun to really catch up with me – everything between my grandfather and my mother, it just all seemed to slow me down.

I was thinking about it more than I had been when all of it had actually happened, admittedly. When I had heard about what April had gone through with him and what Amelia had gone through, I had been blind with believing them and making sure that everything worked out the way that it should have. Even if I had gone through admittedly regrettable resources, only regrettable from the way that she had reacted to it. Otherwise, I wouldn't have thought twice about doing it. Then my mother had died and I had wanted to do everything except for thinking about it. Laying there and doing absolutely nothing was better than facing the reality of the situation. Pretty much anything was better than the actual reality of it.

Going to therapy had gotten me past drowning it inside. It hadn't been much of a choice. April had always been so honest about the issues that she'd had in the past adding going to therapy. I knew any kind of bullshit excuses wouldn't have worked for a second with her.

Yet I was still glad that I had gone in the first place even if my initial reasons hadn't been the strongest ones. It had been trying to avoid that conversation with her and the pushing in person that would have inevitably come. But it hadn't ended being the same thing, even if I had only gone to two grief sessions with her. She'd taught me a lot of stuff that maybe should have been obvious. Grief teaches us that we should live every day creating memories that will comfort us after our loved ones are gone. Grief teaches us that pain and joy can coexist. Those were two things that she had said a lot and they made so much sense at pretty much any time other than in the actual process and the deep feeling of grief. Normalizing the process of grief had been a good thing. The rest of the world just didn't do that, no matter the fact that everyone had to deal with loss at some point.

The limousine for both of us was already stretched out in front of the sky rise New York apartment. April had left me a text on my phone letting me know that she was downstairs waiting – meaning that she had gotten antsy from waiting for me. We'd been back together in New York for two weeks, and she had picked up on my newer bad habits.

"Hey." The word was out of my mouth the same second the door opened. "Sorry, I'm here now."

"It's okay." Bright red lips smiled at me. "You look nice."

"And you look magnificent," I stretched over to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Perfect."

Even though it was a little more difficult to see all of it from her sitting, she was wearing a bright red jumpsuit with belt pinched at the middle of the weight. All of the freckles across her shoulders were on clear display, the neckline of the jumpsuit dipping down a little lower than what I usually saw her wearing. Of course, I'd seen it all before. But red complimented her so well, something that wasn't always true for redheads.

Her arm hooked around my elbow. "We're not actually going to be late, you know? I just thought if I scooted out the door a little earlier than necessary, then you would get out of the door on time."

"Clever." I chuckled. "I definitely thought we were going to be late."

"I used to do it with my sisters," she shared. I looked down at her. She rarely spoke of them. "They were always late to everything and I always wanted to be early. It was a constant argument back then."

"Well, we won't argue over it." I kissed the top of her head gently. "But there might be some arm tugging."

"You're going to get out all of your affection now," April reminded me. "I don't want to be too touchy in front of the camera. Not super beyond what regular costars do."

"I remember," I nodded. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, pulling her in tight. "And what exactly are we going to say if they ask about our relationship."

She took a deep breath. "That we are amazing friends and that we love working together, and that we had such an amazing, natural chemistry in the movie. It carried out to real life a little bit and we're trying to see if that was really there, or just the excitement from the movie. We're taking it easy and slow and don't want to be peppered with too many questions about it."

"The only person I know that could come up with such a polite version of please shut up." I laughed, rubbing her arm gently.

"In another life, I could have been a great press manager." She laughed. "But no, I had a little help from mine. And he very explicitly said that you should not call me princess in public unless you want everyone to go crazy."

"Noted," I nodded in agreement. "I'll leave it for the bedroom."

"Oh, hush!" She laughed and gave a gentle elbow to my ribs. "Just not in front of the cameras."

It doesn't take particularly long to navigate through the city and get from our shared home to where the movie premiere was located. Weekday traffic was rather typical. It's not quite as much time as I would have liked snuggling up against her but the movie premiere itself was the event more than the red carpet, which meant about two hours next to each other in the dark.

Noise is the clearest indication that we had arrived. Even if the movie wasn't that big as far as I was concerned, at least compared to our movie, it still seemed to have gathered a bit of a fanbase. Enough that there's screaming and shouting when the limo pulled to a stop in front of the red carpet. Even with the dark windows, it was easy to see the flashes of light that came from the paparazzi and their cameras on the other side of the car door. I took a deep breath, looking down at her and waiting until she gave a nod of her head before I unlocked the car door and gave it a little push, someone on the other side pulling it the rest of the way open.

"Jackson!"

"Is April with you?"

"Jackson!"

The screams come the second that I was out of the limo and in plain view of everyone. But I turned back toward April and offered her my hand to help her get out of the car, making sure that the long legs of her jumpsuit don't get caught on her heels.

Camera lights would have been blinding if I wasn't so used to the near constant flashes of bright lights for the both of us. We made our way over to the red carpet together and I tried to tune out the sound of our names being yelled out by everyone. Little demands are made, to smile and to look this way, and we keep in sync with the ones that we answer and when. It was easy to follow her lead. Even if I had never felt natural on this side of the camera, it was easier with her by my side.

My hand remained on the small of her back as we stayed on this side of the camera, moving our way slowly down the carpet so that plenty of photos could have been taken of both of us. She had more patience for it than I did, apparently. Her smile was brighter than all of the flashes of the cameras. I barely managed to keep mine to be more than a grimace.

"Such a beautiful couple!"

"Are you guys together?"

Shouting doesn't ever entirely stop even as a few other celebrities get out of their respective vehicle and onto the other end of the carpet even if it does get a little more split up and take some of the attention off of us, which I was grateful for. We finished our short walk down the red carpet and got inside the theatre, which was a relief. Even if there was still some press and whatnot inside, the camera flashes are rare. It's pretty much celebrities and friends instead of getting hounded by outsiders.

"Hey, at least no one asked if you're pregnant this time." I teased, lips brushing against her ear.

"A perk." She gave a quick kiss. No one was staring at us now, at least. "Do you want to get some food?"

"You know I do." I smiled.

"I do. C'mon," she chuckled and her fingers intertwined with mine as she guided me over to the table where a small buffet of hor d'oeuvres. 

Grabbing plates for both of us, I load up with a little more food than she does and grab a beer and a glass of Chardonnay for her. She had found her way to socializing while I had waited at the little bar area, finding her chatting comfortably with a few faces that were familiar but I couldn't put a name on.

"And then, the next thing I knew, he was passed out on the table in front of me!" A short-haired brunette said.

Laughter burst out among the group and I offered a small smile as I came up next to April to hand her the glass of wine. She thanked me with a smile, covering her mouth and quickly swallowing her food and clearing her throat to introduce me, though I had doubts that an introduction was necessary in the first place. It was just her way of being polite.

"Guys, this is Jackson Avery." She leaned against me for a moment. "My co-star in _Terminal_."

"Just your co-star in _Terminal_?" The brunette shot up her eyebrows before smiling at me. "Hi, I'm Reed Adamson. I've heard plenty about you, especially this year. I'm so sorry about your mother, she was a legend." I try not to cringe. "April and I worked together years ago – I had just a small part in one of her projects and it helped me get into the world of Hollywood because she talked so fondly about me to others. I owe her so much."

"You do not!" April chimed in with a shake of her head. "Trust me, she earned that praise. She's brilliant. Don't let her pixie-stick size fool you, she knows how to command a room when she wants to."

"I believe it," I smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Reed. I'm pretty sure that I've seen your work before."

"Very polite, I like it." Reed smiled. "So, are you sure the two of you are just co-stars? Because pretty much every single thing that I've read about you indicates that there's just as much going on behind the scenes as there has been on camera."

I glanced down at her. "We are friends and love working together. And maybe some of that movie chemistry carried out to real life a little bit and we're trying to see if that was really there, or just the excitement from the movie. We're taking it easy and slow." I shrugged, quoting her as well as memory allowed for.

"We don't want to press making too much out of it," April added with a small nod of her head. "So we are kind of trying to keep it on the down low while we have just a little bit of a chance."

"Very nice." The male standing next to Reed spoke, offering his hand. I shook it. "Charles Percy, Reed's boyfriend. Nice to meet you."

"And you," I replied.

April and Reed are happy to chatter back and forth. Even though she had never mentioned the brunette to be in the past, it seems like they got on with each other quite well. The project that they had worked on before must have been the same project that had involved Matthew, too.

Taking their chatter as an opportunity to down some of the delicious food on my plate and the beer that I was holding onto, I listen carefully even if I don't throw in a lot. This was their world and it seemed like Charles was a guest in it, too. Even if he had a familiar looking face, at the same time, it could have been a face that I had seen anywhere. He didn't seem like he fit in as well either. I drifted toward him before speaking.

"You want to go grab another beer?" I offered.

"Sure thing." He agreed.

I waited until we had a little distance from the ladies before I spoke. "You're not in the industry, are you?"

"What gave it away?" Charles chuckled. "No, not really. I'm a journalist. For the Los Angeles Time, not anything like Variety or the Hollywood Reporter. Usually, I don't come to this kind of thing, but I love her."

"A good reason," I nodded in agreement before grabbing the bartender's attention to order. "That's impressive, though. Top paper in the city. You must be pretty good at what you do."

"I try to be." He remained nonchalant. "I like what I do. That's the important part."

"It is," I agreed. "I do too. Well, I like photography a lot more than I do acting. This is a good experience for me and honestly, I'm so fucking grateful that I met April through doing it. I love her. But I know being an actor is not the kind of career that I want. I hate being on the other side of the camera."

"The things that we do for love, huh?" He looked around with an amused smile. "This stuff isn't so bad, though. The food and the afterparties are always pretty nice, even if I rather keep any attention I get for my work."

"I get that. I'd take the attention on my work over myself any day of the week."

The bartender brought us both another beer as Charles spoke. "Yeah. It's weird, how different Reed and I are in that way. she doesn't think twice about all of it and it still kind of freaks me out now."

"April's the exact same way." I smiled. "A natural in front of the camera, and yet she's… totally chill without it too, you know? She's not a diva. I would've never guessed that if I hadn't gotten to know her, honestly. I've always kind of had a bad impression from the way I grew up."

"I can't imagine," he sympathized. "Sounds like you've been going through a lot with your family."

"Yeah," I sighed out. "It's been a rough year."

"Between the scandal and losing your mother, it must have been. I was sorry to hear about that. I read what she was doing with donating to The Rape Foundation after and having you to work on that photography project. It seems like she was a good woman."

"She was."

The words sting at my heart more than I would have liked them to, and I take a long sip from my beer, letting out a sigh. I would have to get used to talking about her at some point or another. Some days were going to be easier than others, I had been told that before. Maybe it was too soon for it to be something I was comfortable with just yet. Time was supposed to be a healing factor, even if it wasn't the only thing in the world that would make it easier.

"I guess we should go join our ladies again before the wander away without us," I suggested.

Making our way back through the crowd to our respective girlfriends I let my arm slip around April's slender waist and pulled her against my side. She looked up at me with a smile even if she stayed engaged with everything that Reed was talking about. Having been gone for a little bit, I wasn't quite sure anymore.

As people began to make their way inside the theatre itself, we followed the flow of the crowd and went along with them. Reed and April said goodbye to each other and we double-checked our seat assignment before making our way into the dark theatre. There was no previews or anything that would play before, just the movie itself, so it was important that everyone was seated and in their place when the movie actually started.

"Too bad you didn't wear a dress," I whispered in her ear when we sat down. "We could've had a lot of fun, princess."

"You are… terrible." April shuddered. "And I am so paying you back for that later."

The movie isn't bad. It's not the kind of thing that I would have had a lot of interest in on its own, but I didn't mind sitting down with April and getting out of the house to see. Most of it was pretty typical for any action movie when it came to the typical protagonist's loss, sex scenes thrown in, and of course, the gratuitous violence and all of the over the top effects that were in the budget for the movie.

When the after party comes around after, it has much more life to the event than the actual premiere did – but that was pretty typical. After parties were known for the food and the booze, plus the occasional ridiculous other things that got thrown into the mix. Music blasted loud enough it was hard to hear.

"Do you want another drink?" I asked loudly.

"No. But I'm about to attack those cake balls." A plan that I could get on board with.

Once we had both gotten a little more food in our stomachs for the night, we headed over to the groups of people that had gathered around, all dancing to the music. Some people clearly had a little more to drink than others did. With my arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her in tight against my front side, the two of us swayed side to side along with the music. She smelled good – some kind of new perfume that I hadn't noticed earlier. I inhaled deeply, pressing a kiss against her hairline.

"You smell so good," I murmured.

"What?" She nearly shouted.

I turned her around in my arms, her back against my chest and placed my ears against her lips. "You smell delicious."

A teasing kiss is placed on the curve of her neck before the two of us begin to dance together, and I realize the fault that I had in putting her in this position. The feel of her ass brushing and rubbing against my crotch with every movement, pressed back against me so deliciously, I could have taken her on the floor in front of everyone.

"I need to go to the bathroom," I spoke into her ear again, not quite as sexy as the first time. "I wouldn't mind a helping hand."

"Does having a mature relationship include slutty bathroom sex?"

"Any good relationship should." Making sure no one was paying attention to us, I gave her ass a quick squeeze.

Even though I leave her there for a brief moment, it's a short one. Finding my way to the bathroom, I glance over my shoulder and see that she's following me there. Entering, the first thing that I do is make sure that it was empty and no one else had already gotten busy with my current idea. I'm relieved that it was and that it's pretty clean looking. That made it slightly less sleazy.

The bathroom door opened behind me and I barely had any time to turn around and face April before her lips were attacking mine. She doesn't have to reach up as much as usual to capture them, her heels eliminating some of the normal difference in our two heights.

"Hello to you too," I muttered against her lips, nipping at her bottom one.

"Did I get you hard?" April eased a strap off her jumpsuit off, slipping her arm out and one breast falling out. I cupped it in my hand immediately, brushing my nipple across it and hardening the sensitive nub.

"You got pretty damn close. Figured I shouldn't walk around with a boner." I kissed her hard again.

"Well, I can take care of that."

She took charge and guided me back into the handicapped stall of the restroom, pushing the door shut and locking it quickly. The other strap of her jumpsuit came down and allowed the upper half of it to hang off of her, perky breasts put on display.

Bending down, I get one nipple between my mouth and begin to tease it with my tongue. It hardened quickly and I pulled at it gently with my front teeth, hearing a salacious moan escape from her lips above me. She pushed me back against the wall and I stared at her with an open mouth. She stared back boldly even though her chest had already begun to heave just a little bit, eyes not breaking the intense focus as she fell down onto her knees in front of me, quickly undoing the buckle of my belt and pulling down the zipper.

"You are so goddamn sexy," I complimented her.

"I'll show you sexy."

My boner was already beginning to strain against my boxers and she played a wet kiss over the material of them. Raking my fingers through her hair, though trying t be a little careful to not make a complete mess of it, it was too easy to settle my hand on the base of the neck and hold her there. She was still certainly in control, but I liked having a hold on her.

The sound of a phone ringing might have alarmed me if I didn't immediately recognize her ringtone. It was easy to ignore as she pushed down my boxers and pulled out my length, licking her hand for a little slickness before she wrapped her hand around my length and began to stroke it slowly. My hips canted forward into her grip to move with the motion. The second time that her phone rang, I tried not to think about it too much. Especially when her mouth settled around the tip of my cock. But the third time it started to ring again, it was beginning to become a bit of a distraction.

"Do you, uh…" I sighed out.

"No. One second, I'll shut it off." She muttered.

Her hand remained to hold onto me as she reached with her other into her purse and pulled out her phone. I expected her to just squeeze it off and put it away, but she doesn't. I can't see what her phone said but something in her face changed as she looked at it – no longer hot and bothered. Just bothered.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Um." A few seconds passed as she wet her lips. "It's one of my sisters. Libby called and Kimmie just called twice. Both of them texted me, too, just saying that it was important."

"What?" I had heard what she said clearly, it was just a shock.

"Yeah…" April sighed out. "I don't know. Maybe I should just ignore it." She let go of me, scrolling through the notifications.

"No," I shook my head. "Call one of them back. It might be something important."

She let out a huff of air. "I don't know, Jackson…"

"C'mon," I squatted down so that I was on the same level as her. "If there's something going on with your family, you should know. Whether or not you're going to do something to act on it, that's up to you. Calling them back and knowing isn't forcing your hand into it."

April stared down at her phone screen a few minutes longer. Another text appeared. "Yeah, okay."

Both of us stood back up so we were not lingering on a dirty bathroom floor, and I tucked my cock back into my boxers and pants despite the fact that it was still hard. Whatever was going on, it had to be something somewhat important. I knew that she hadn't spoken to her family in years and it seemed to be a mutual effort. The mood was gone.

"Hello? … Yeah, hi Kimmie, it's really me. Hi, Libby. What's going on?"

She doesn't turn away from me while she was on the phone so I took that as a sign it was fine to listen to everything that she was saying and strain my ears just a little to try and hear what was being said on the other side. It was easy to tell that her sister was emotional on the other end but I couldn't hear every word that was being said.

But I don't need to.

The look on April's face as she pressed whatever was being spoken to her on the other end of the line was clear. The confusion disappeared as details were revealed and there's a sudden glistening of tears on her lower lashes, one slipping past and bringing down a little bit of mascara in a trail down on her face. I give her space, not wanting to push while she was on the phone. She doesn't say much after the tear slipped out of her. Someone had to be dead or dying, something of that matter – but I would guess that unlike with me, this accident had nothing to do with her mother. Her sisters had been young and impressionable when they had gone against her, but her parents had not been. They knew exactly what they were doing.

Disconnecting the call, a few quick seconds passed before the iPhone was suddenly shattering against the floor and she stood there, hand still held out as if she was holding it. Stepping forward, my arms wrap securely around her. Even with my arms around her bare skin from her jumpsuit hanging half off of her, she doesn't feel warm in the way that she usually did. Something had happened.

"April…" I said slowly, not letting go of her. "What's going on?"

A sob finally escaped her, strong enough that it shook her entire frame even as I held her.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm here, I'm right here."

She doesn't speak immediately. I don't push her to just yet, holding her against me and rubbing circles across the top of her back as I held her. She doesn't let out any sobs like that one again, but I suspect there are a few more tears making their way down her face.

"It's uh, my sister." April finally began to speak as she pulled back from me, blinking a few times. "My other sister. Alice. There was a car accident and she's going into surgery but apparently, it's really bad and they're not sure if she'll make it."

"Oh, April," I breathed out. My hands cupped her face, thumb wiping away a tear. "I'm so sorry."

"I haven't seen her since I was twelve. She's twice as old now. I haven't known her for half of her life and now she's probably going to die." Her words were messy. "Kimmie said that she didn't think that I was going to call back. Then she could have just died and I wouldn't have even know about it. How awful is that? I'm… I'm a terrible sister. I've been blaming her for something that my mother did when she was twelve."

"You were just a kid too, April. You were a kid who had just gone through something traumatic and wanted nothing more than your family, and they didn't give you that. You weren't wrong for feeling that way." I defended her quickly.

"What if I was?" She blurted out. "They… they were all just kids who wanted their family too."

I pulled her in against my chest. "You weren't wrong. You weren't. But if you wanted to… go and see your sisters, then that wouldn't be saying that you were wrong, either. You can care about them now without negating the way that you felt in the past. Just like they might care about you now, for not understanding what happened in the past."

"I don't know what to do." She confessed, sniffling loudly. "I just don't."

"You don't have to know right now. You don't. How about we go home?" I suggested.

"Okay." She uttered.

Helping her get her jumpsuit back into place and smoothing over her hair, using a wet paper towel to dab away the smears of mascara there had run beneath her eyes from the tears, it certainly no longer looked like the two of us had snuck into the bathroom for some mid-party sex. There's a little redness at the bottom edge of her eyes, but between everything else going on at the party, it was doubtful that anyone would pay much attention to that if they even noticed.

With my arm around her shoulder and holding her tight against me, we made our way through the crowd left in the party without anyone approaching us. I get us a ride back to my penthouse. The doorman doesn't say a word to either one of us as we take the elevator up to our floor and get inside of it.

"You know that when my mom died, we weren't on the best of terms." I started as we sat down on the couch. I reached down and pulled her heels off her feet, pulling them into my lap and beginning to massage one gently.

"I know." She murmured, laying her head back against the arm of the soda.

"That doesn't mean that I didn't love her. It just means… things weren't perfect, because they never are, and life has shitty timing sometime." I tried to swallow my own emotions. "How do you think you would feel if you went and saw them? Your sisters, at least. Not your mother."

"I don't know." She wet her lips. "Do you think… it would have been easier if you and your mother had been on good terms?"

"I don't know." My turn to throw out the words. "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it just would have been a different grief."

"If she dies, I'll have never known her," April stated bluntly. "And if she lives, and I go… then I feel like I need to know her. I'll have to get to know her, won't I? I'm scared getting to know my sisters means that I'm going to have to get to know my parents again, too. Or that they're going to manage to convince me that what my parents did was right and I was being wrong and overdramatic about it."

I shook my head. "They're not going to do that. I'm not going to let them do that to you, okay?"

"What if they try?" She asked.

"I'm not going to let them," I repeated myself. "I can't say that I know what it was like to grow up in your family. But I know what you've told me and I've learned a thing or two about weird and complicated family dynamics in my day. Which is why I'm not going to leave you alone in dealing with this."

"But I left you alone when your mother died. I know that you said it was what you wanted. But I shouldn't have." April pointed out.

"Not entirely," I gave a soft smile. "You gave me the chance to talk to Cristina. Anyone could have given me her name, sure, but I wouldn't have accepted it from anyone but you, baby. Because you've always been so open with me about your struggles."

April pulled her feet out of her hands and turned around from the way that she was laying on the couch. She curled up against me and put her head on my lap so she was now laying in the opposite direction from before. I stroked my hand over her soft hair and pulled a little bit out of it from her face, making sure that I could see it. There were a few tears sparkling along the lower edge now but they weren't falling as they had been before. I couldn't tell if that was better or worse. Sometimes, crying could be a good thing.

"How about this," I took a deep breath before starting. "Let's get undressed and go to bed. You've had a bit to drink tonight, so have I, that's not the time to make big or emotional decisions. We'll sleep it off and wake up at a bit of an early hour in the morning. Then we can decide. We can catch the first flight to Ohio, or we can not."

"No." She disagreed with a sniffle. "I… I have money. If she's still alive in the morning, I want to have her transferred here. To the best hospital and to the best doctors available. I'll fly out Kimmie and Libby too. It's the least that I can do for them."

"Okay." If she wasn't ready to go home, I couldn't blame her. "We can do that."

"If she dies, I want to pay for her funeral." Money wasn't everything, but sometimes, it could make an effort for feeling like you were doing something. I couldn't criticize her for that.

Especially given I still hadn't figured out that I should be poor for my grandfather's sake, and currently was not.

"Okay," I nodded my head, leaning down and kissing her forehead. "We'll make sure that you feel the same way in the morning, and if you do, we'll et all of the arrangements for her made and taken care of." A few seconds passed and I stroke my thumb along her shoulder gently. "You're a good sister, April. Even if you don't feel like one right now, you are. So many people would not do the same, no matter what the relationship between them and their siblings was."

"Thank you," she breathed out quietly. "Can we go to bed now?"

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go to bed, sweetheart."

I really, really hoped that she would actually sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

**_ APRIL _ **

No amount of tossing and turning makes sleeping easy. In and out of sleep, it's the same dream sequence.

Something had to be done. It was the only way. Door after door and room after room, the answer that I'm looking for isn't there. Hypervigilance persisted with each glance over my shoulder as I waited for the expected and the unexpected to appear there. The walls around me were such an ugly shade of yellow and there was a green chair there, the only thing in the room. But it's useless. I had to get out. There were no windows or doors and the hallway that I had exhausted myself running down was gone. Heart thudding so harshly in my chest that it nearly caused me to shake, I pick up the chair and toss it aside as if it would I've me an answer. It doesn't, of course. Instead, I hear a cry. Looking over, my twelve year old sister was laying on the ground, curled up in pain. There was nothing that I could do to help her. All I could do was stare.

I wake up in a sweat, rolling onto my back to unstick one thigh from the other and kicking the sheets off of my body. A small glance is given to Jackson as I laid still, hoping that I hadn't woken him up. He was still snoring just as soundly as he had been earlier when he had fallen asleep before me. I knew that he cared. But he was still a heavy sleeper.

Lifting up my head and squinting at the clock on Jackson's side of the bed, it was only a few minutes shy of four in the morning. I had a few more hours to try and sleep. My phone was face down on the nightstand on silent. I should check to see if Libby or Kimmie has texted me with an update about our youngest sister. That would be the reasonable, worried sister thing to do. I didn't know how long surgeries lasted. The only one that I had ever had was getting out my wisdom teeth a decade ago. On shows, it seemed like they were always hours and hours long.

If it was less than terrible news, it would be easy to swallow down and accept because it meant that I had some kind of chance at seeing if the future could be different in the past. But if it was bad news, I didn't know how I was going to react.

My phone remained facedown and untouched.

Switching onto my right side so that I was facing away from Jackson, I let out a heavy sigh. I had no interest in going back to sleep even if it was the only reasonable thing for me to do right now. He had wanted me to make the decision with some kind of clarity on my mind, sleep under my belt, but only one of those things seemed possible and even then, it was a stretch. My chances of getting my crap together were pretty much nonexistent.

An alarm clock blaring woke me up with a jolt and my hand slapped against bare skin. Jackson's skin, letting out a slight grunt as he reached over and turned off the loud machine.

"Morning," he murmured as he rolled back over to me, kissing my lips.

"Hi," I uttered out, incapable of reciprocity.

"Have you heard any news from your sisters yet?" He asked, pushing hair away from my face.

I don't have the guts to tell him that I had been too scared to check all night despite the multiple instances that I had woken up. Reaching over to the nightstand, I finally pick up my phone and look at the text messages that wait for me beyond the obvious request to call when I had seen their messages.

_[Received] Allie made it through surgery. But the doctors said it was still a long road to recovery._

A relieved sob escaped. Before Jackson could get the wrong idea about the news on my phone, I handed it over to him quickly so that he could read it for himself. He read it and handed it back to me, hand falling onto my shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"She's going to be okay," Jackson comforted me.

"I hope so," I muttered despondently.

"She will." He cupped my face, thumb stroking along my cheekbone. "Do you still want to do what you brought up last night? Bringing your sisters out to New York so she can get better help?"

"Yes." I nodded quickly and sat up. "I... I need to call my sisters and the doctors and get the arrangements made."

"Do you want me to do it?" He offered.

I knew why he was offering - compensation for what I had done after his mom died. "No," I answered despite it. "This is something that I need to be able to do by myself."

Even though my words have some faint resemblance of confidence, it took me a moment of sitting there before I can take my phone and get out of bed. I'm nauseous, stomach twisting inside of me. I sit on the bathroom floor, leaning against the cool porcelain of the bathtub, as I call Libby back. I don't give room for much chatter, just telling her what I wanted to do. She and Kimmie are both ecstatic about the idea. I can't help but wonder what their finances are like and if they're still in the same place that we all had been growing up, but it doesn't feel like the right time to ask. They put me on with the doctor in charge of Alice's care and he helps me arrange everything for her. Certainly, one thing was true about the healthcare system: anything was possible with enough money.

Once everything was set up and I have a time frame for when the youngest Kepner would be at the hospital in the city, I stay on the floor a little longer. I don't know how to face her any more than I did Libby or Kimmie. We'd all been so young and so brainwashed from our parent's small and conservative view about the world and all of the other people in it. They were the reason I didn't believe in God anymore though it had been forced upon me for years. If all Christians were going to be so uptight and close-minded, so full of hate and judgment despite the Bible's talk about love for thy neighbor and that only God could truly judge, then I couldn't be one. I just couldn't. That mindset was the reason I had spent a decade of my life dependent on Lexapro. It had broken me. I wonder if it had broken my sisters, too, or if they were the same as our parents had been.

Had they even told Mom and Dad that they had called me? I hadn't heard either one in the background of the phone calls. Certainly now, they would have to know I was involved with everything.

"April?" There was a knock on the door along with Jackson's voice. "Everything okay?"

I got up and opened the door. "I think so. The doctor said that Alice would be at Mount Sinai at about 2:30. I need my laptop so that I can book flights for my sisters." I moved past him to get it.

"That's great." I could feel his eyes on me. "Did they say anything else?" He asked.

"Yeah." The bed creaked beneath me as I plopped onto it. "She was pregnant apparently and lost the baby. She's down a kidney, too, and may need a transplant if the function of the second one doesn't improve but they're not sure. She had a concussion and a small brain bleed. They said that resolved but they needed to keep monitoring her to be sure about it."

"That's a lot." Jackson sat down next to me, placing his hand on my knee as I opened up a web browser to order plane tickets. "How are you doing?"

"I don't know," I muttered in lieu of offering a real answer.

"Yes, you do," he countered.

I sighed. "I want to see them but I'm scared to see them. I don't want to get my hopes up that they're going to be different because if they aren't, I'm scared it's going to break me. And it's not like I have time for a mental breakdown right now."

"Here, do this flight." He pointed to one on my screen. "We can arrange a car to take them straight from the airport to the hospital. That'll be a bit of a buffer."

"Okay," I muttered, thinking he might have let it go.

"If you need a breakdown, then have one. Don't let your schedule stop you from feeling the way that you need to feel. But you might not need one. Think about how much you've changed over the years, April. They might have changed too. Do you think it's a coincidence that they're calling after all the stuff in the media? Maybe they want forgiveness just as much as you do."

He had so much hope. I was used to being the optimist in the room but it was refreshing to have someone take over the role for me. I needed a break from it.

Taking a long shower and trying to clear out my system from some of the heaviness that had settled inside of it, I spend too long in the bathroom. After scrubbing my skin until it was red, I get out of the shower and take an excessive amount of time curling and curling my hair so that it was as perfect as possible. Jackson doesn't say a word of criticism as I take my time in there, careful of my eye makeup. I go light with it, figuring there would be a good chance that I would cry it off. He only had compliments for me, letting me know that the car service was set to pick up my sisters from the airport.

Nothing in the world could make me more nervous than the car ride to the hospital. Jackson fights his way through the ridiculous traffic of the city so that we could get to the hospital on time. It doesn't matter what time of day it is, the traffic on the streets of New York was always an utter nightmare and this was no exception. Today it only seemed worse than usual because I was in a rush.

"Hi, I'm April Kepner. I'm here to see my sister, Alice. She was flown in this morning." I explained.

Once all of the details were hashed out with one of the administrators working at the desk, a nurse took Jackson and me back to her room. It's a private room on one of the upper floors of the hospital, much nicer than any room that I had ever seen on some kind of studio or set. This must have just been what it was like when money was involved so heavily in everything.

"Alice?" I questioned softly, stepping into the room. Jackson waited by the door. She didn't move or wake up.

"The sedation from the flight is probably still wearing off," a nurse advised. "But you can still talk to her."

I looked up at Jackson. "Can I have a minute?" I requested.

"Of course," he nodded as he stepped to the other side of the door.

"I really hope that things are different." I sighed out as I shut my eyes, sitting down in the chair next to her. "You were so young and I never gave you a chance. Just like I was so young, and Mom and Dad never gave me a chance. None of it was fair to any of us. I loved you all so much when we were all young and now I've missed out on half of your life. That's not very fair. Not to you or to me or to any of us. But it's not your fault. You probably didn't even understand what was happening and I don't know what our parents told you. But I loved you, even when I was leaving, Alice. You were always my favorite. And I really, really hope that you're not going to be the one who's leaving now."

Tears had escaped during my words. I hoped for some kind of magical television moment where she would wake up and hear everything that I had said, that we would both forgive each other and cry and hug.

But that doesn't happen.

Sitting there for a few minutes longer, I wipe away my tears with the back of my hand and check my makeup before I open the door and let Jackson into the room again. He stays standing behind me as I sit down, both hands on my shoulders and rubbing them gently. I get just bold enough to hold onto one of her hands with both of mine.

"You guys look alike," Jackson remarked, a finger twirling my hair soothingly.

"We all do. You should see the baby pictures. You'd have no clue who's who." I barely smiled.

"I bet I could still find you." He chuckled.

Even though it felt like an impossibly long time, the two of us were in her room alone for less than an hour before there was a knock on the door. As it opened, I shut up so quickly the chair scooted loudly on the floor. A nurse brought in both of my sisters into the room - each one of them easy to spot even though Libby was sporting a big baby belly that immediately drew my gaze. All of my sisters really were happy and starting families.

"Hi." My mouth ran dry.

"Hi, April."

"Oh, April... Allie..." Both of them wrapped their arms around me as if there were not a dozen years of distance between the two of us. It caused more tears to finally slip out of me. I cried into both of their arms, feeling some of that distance begin to close.

"I can't believe you did all of this for us," Libby praised. "Dad said not to call you. But the doctors said that something about the kidney stuff they could do here and not there, it might save her kidney."

"You look just like you do on television," Kimmie spoke, looking at Jackson a moment. "You both do. Wow."

I smiled although it was difficult. "You've kept up with me over the years?"

"Of course!" Libby hit my arm. "April, that first movie you did... Do you remember Timmy, my longtime boyfriend from high school? He was just like that. You're the only reason why I left him and met my husband. I'm so happy now and I might've died if I stayed with Timmy. Now I'm on baby number three."

There was no stopping the sob that escaped my chest as I latched onto my older sister, squeezing her so tightly that it made my arms shake.

"You were always there over the years, Ducky. One way or another." Kimmie smiled.

"I thought everyone was supposed to be crying over me," Alice croaked.

"Alice!" Both of my sisters were in sync as they shouted her name. We all let go of each other to quickly gather around her bed. Libby sat where I had been before and I moved next to her, Kimmie on the other side of the bed.

"You're awake," Kimmie murmured. Our younger sister looked around with wide eyes.

"April?" She questioned, staring right at me.

"Hi. Yeah, I'm here." My hand came up to cover my mouth and try to prevent the sob that wanted to escape. "Hi, Allie. You're so grown now."

"You're so old." Alice smiled. "Where I am? What happened?"

I let Libby and Kimmie explain everything that had happened to her. I hadn't gotten all of the details of the accident so it was a chance for me to hear a little more about it, too. Apparently, it had been a drunk driver who had gotten off with only a few stitches before being taken to jail. There's some satisfaction in knowing that he was behind bars, but not nearly enough. Alice was confused and didn't have any memory of the accident, but grateful that I had flown everyone to New York. They all were. It made me feel like I had finally done something right for all of them.

Jackson stepped out with the offer to bring all of us coffee and some snacks. My sisters all seemed to be rather fond of him immediately and found him to be cute. I can't blame them for that.

Speaking of blame... "Can I say something to all of you?" I requested, taking a deep breath.

"Of course." All of them chimed in agreement.

"I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. We were all kids and I blamed you for what Mom did and that wasn't fair." The tears were burning in my eyes stung.

"Ducky, it's not your fault." Alice interrupted. "When it happened to me, they blamed me too. Said I was unfaithful to my husband. And my god, I thought that Jon was going to kill her when I told him what she said to me."

"It happened to you?" I questioned. Her nod was enough to earn another sob. "I'm so sorry."

"April, there's something we need to tell you." Libby made eye contact with me slowly. "Mom died last year. She fell and broke her hip, and contracted an infection a few months later and it killed her. We wanted to call but we weren't sure. You seemed so happy and successful and even though I know you haven't spoken to each other in years, we didn't want to cause you any unnecessary grief. Especially over her."

I fell quiet. A few long seconds passed. My mother was dead. There was some kind of relief in hearing that knowledge, in knowing that the world was freed of one more close-minded and outdated woman of her generation. Even though she was my blood, that didn't erase the many flaws that she had and the trauma that she had left me with as an adult. The same that she had tried to put on Alice, too. She had been a horrible woman and now the world had one less in it. I can't tell if I should grieve the fact or not. She had birthed me. But that negated nothing.

"Thank you for telling me now." My older sister took my hand after I spoke.

When Jackson came back with coffee and muffins for all of us, the conversation takes a lighter turn. Even if I don't mind airing out everything that I feel in front of him and he had begun to do the same for me, my sisters don't have the same level of comfort and intimacy with him that I do. They knew each other's husband but not my boyfriend. All three of them seemed like they were just as attached at the hip now as they had been when we were all kids.

All of them tell me about their lives. I was the only one who wasn't married and didn't have kids, as I suspected. Alice's youngest was only six months and Libby's oldest was nearly nine. They had all started a lot younger than I had.

"When are you two going to get married and have kids?" Libby asked. She was always so cheeky.

"We're working on one and practicing for the other." Jackson teased.

Truthfully, with the way things were, the statement could have gone either way.

When dinner time comes, we passed around my phone and made use of Uber Eats. Unsurprisingly, the app hadn't made its way to Moline. Only Kimmie still lived in the city itself with her husband and daughter, but Libby and Alice were both close by in neighboring towns. They still had family dinners with our father every Sunday night. It was almost weird to think about but there were plenty of photos of all of my nieces and nephews, who apparently knew all about their Aunt April, from the dinners. All of them were adorable and looked like classic Kepners.

We eat and I listen. All of them had kept up with my life through the media and there wasn't a lot that I could tell them beyond that. Work was my life. That was just the way that things had played out for me and maybe it was because it had been so difficult for years for me to open up and be vulnerable to someone because I knew too well the consequences of having them react poorly. It's enlightening to hear that they aren't quite as damaged as I had been coming out of that household. They're happy mothers and wives and sisters, all in relationships that sound healthy. A little part of me can't help but be jealous of the simplicity. Even if I wouldn't have wanted it long term, things had been so crazy lately that it sounded like an idealistic situation.

"April, I don't think any of us can thank you enough for doing all of this." Libby started.

"I have a lot to catch up on with all of you. Consider this... a down payment. That's all."

I would catch up with them. After this, after knowing that they had kept up with me and even when I had been hundreds of miles away in California, I had managed to help them... It felt as if I had no choice but to love and welcome them back into my life again. But I didn't want a choice. Alice had been through the same struggle with our deceased mother that I had been. All of them seemed to know now how wrong and unfair it had been for all four of us. They had grown and changed, just like I had. It was the normal, natural process of being human. And apparently, I had helped with that.

Going home for the night feels wrong. I make sure to get more plane tickets for Alice's husband and baby girl to come to see her. Libby and Kimmie both had hotel reservations but they don't leave when Jackson and I do. I try not to let it bother me. There was no way to say that I hadn't put love and care into taking care of her, even if I only stay for six hours instead of eight.

The front door opened to our home and I made a beeline for the couch as I stripped out of my shoes and jacket, collapsing on top of it and stretching out to cover as much of it as physically possible.

"You're not smiling, but... you seem happy," Jackson observed.

"I feel lighter." There was no other word to put on it.

"Your sisters all seem nice," he said as he sat on the arm of the couch and looked down at me. "It seems like they all really love you, too, even after all these years. Like they didn't get a single gene from your mother."

"Yeah," I agreed. "They're kind. Accepting. Everything that I convinced myself they wouldn't be for years just because my mother wasn't."

"You have a family again." He genuinely didn't seem jealous with his words.

"We do." This time, I smiled. "You have sisters and brothers-in-law. And nieces and nephews. We both kind of have a pretty big family now."

Laying down on the couch next to me, his arms wrapped around my waist and I returned it, just holding onto him and letting my face be buried into his neck. He was warm just like this, maybe in part because I was squished against the back of the couch. He was my family, undoubtedly. But after today, the space in my heart for my family had seemed to triple.

The next few days go by like clockwork. Jackson had to continue to work on the photo shoot that he was doing, so he only goes with me for the first two days. But when he explains why he can't come every day like the three of us do, he makes a surprising offer to Alice: when she's better, he wants her to be one of the many women that he photographed for the project. He even suggested that we could do it together, though I back out of that idea as politely as possible. The offer comes without asking or warning me about it, and even though I'm inevitably skeptical about putting the rest of my family in the limelight given our complicated history, Alice accepted without second thought. It made her and the rest of my sisters happy - which inevitably makes me happy, too. Their smiles were infectious. Now, I understood why so many people had said the same to me over the years.

Though their first day was spent entirely at the hospital, Alice encouraged us to go out and stretch our wings. I met her husband and held her sweet baby girl, and took her advice. Libby and Kimmie had never been to the city before, so our lunch breaks consisted of going out to eat somewhere nice so I could treat them, and the same tourist spots that Jackson had shown me when we had first come to the city together. Watching the way that they were in awe about everything took me back to our childhood and all of the innocence that we had before everything else happened.

The doctors praise her recovery. Her kidney function was improving after being given a rest on the dialysis machine and she wouldn't need a new one. She still mourned the loss of her pregnancy, understandably so. Her husband hadn't known about it yet and she refrained from telling us, so for the first time in over a decade, all four of us hold hands and pray together. Then we avoid saying another word about it.

It would be wrong to say that I suddenly believed. But the hate and negativities that I had carried around the thought of religion were dissipating. I could feel that much.

Family values had perhaps been the most accurate description of what about my mother I hadn't liked. Libby, Kimmie, and Alice were all proof that I couldn't just blame religion for it. Kimmie pointed out one thing that stuck with me about the difference between us and her – we were born Kepners, and she had just married into being one. It was a little exclusionary and outdated but in a positive way. It makes it easier to feel like a part of the family again.

A week after Alice had first been transferred to the hospital, she looked so much better than she had when she had first brought in. Still rather pale, but that was just the Kepner way. There was life in her face again and color in her cheeks. A few more days and she would be able to go home to Ohio again, though she would have to take it easy for a while as she continued to recover from surgery. But the neurologist had cleared her in terms of the concussion and minor brain bleed, and apparently, her platelet counts looked good. Whatever that meant. But the doctor made sure that we all knew it was very good news.

"None of this bothers you, does it?"

Jackson and I were laying in bed after a long day. He had his laptop out and was going through some of the photos that he had taken today, a little furrow between his brow making clear that he was entirely focused on the work in front of him. Normally when he's like that, I try not to distract him. But tonight, the thoughts in my head were just a little too loud.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, not immediately looking at me.

"Your mother died not too long ago and you lost the last real family you had," I started slowly. "Then suddenly, mine gets thrown back into our lives out of the blue. It would make sense if that upset you or if you were jealous."

"No, not at all." Jackson shook his head and shut the laptop, setting it aside. "I'm happy for you, April. Even though you've been busy this past week... it's also kind of the most relaxed that I have ever seen you. After they all got here, at least. You seem happy."

"I am happy," I confirmed.

"Which is why I'm happy," he smiled and rolled to face me. "This has been good for you. I can't be jealous or dislike that. Because what's good for you is good for me, too. And I happen to like my future family, too."

His words draw a smile across my face. "Your future family, huh? That's a brave claim."

"But an accurate one, too. My mother would have been thrilled that I had surrounded myself with so many strong, smart, beautiful women." There was a sincere smile on his face that made me believe the truth behind his words.

"Do you really think so?" I asked.

"Yeah, I do," he nodded.

Jackson rolled onto me and covered my mouth with his. I breathed into him, holding onto the back of his head. We hadn't had sex in a week if that half-assed night in the party bathroom even counted. It probably didn't. It didn't entirely stem from a sudden lack of interest from the stress of the situation so much as it did a lack of time or energy. My sisters were just as exhausting as I had remembered them being when I was younger, even if it wasn't a bad thing now.

Lips moving eagerly against his, he lower just a little bit of his weight against me. I encouraged it, hooking one of my legs behind his thigh and pulling him down against me. He moved easily along with it, hips rocking forward and grinding against me.

"I missed this." Jackson murmured.

He made sure I knew exactly how much he had missed it when he spends half an hour between my thighs and making me cum over and over again, ruining the sheets and nearly suffocating him in the process. It's only after the third orgasm, pushing his head away in desperate need of a break from the intensity of his mouth on my clit, that he eases up a bit. But his version of easing up was pressing inside of me and filling me up entirely, the bed frame shaking as he thrust into me. I turn onto my stomach so that he can go deeper, skin slapping loudly against skin as he held onto my hair. It's dirty and hot and a week of pent-up need released, emptying himself inside of me. Both of us had to lay there for a few minutes without moving or talking to try and recover.

Eventually, I get up and take a bath to clean up without having to wash my hair for a second time today. I lingered in the tub for a few minutes, just soaking in the warm water. It was the first time that I had really gotten a chance to slow down and think this week. I'd kept busy with my sisters to make sure that they saw all of the good parts of the city, giving them everything that I could.

But they had given me something, too. This felt like the first time in years that I had any sort of peace of mind about my family. It was wonderful to know that Jackson seemed to like them and get along well with them, but it went beyond just that. Even after all the time and distance, they still loved me. Being around them made it clear that I still loved them, too. There was a certain squeeze of my heart that came and went as an affirmative reminder. It felt as if I could truly go forward with my life now. A veil that I hadn't even realized existed had been lifted.

Getting out of the tub and drying myself off, I put on a nightie and joined Jackson back in his bedroom. He had already changed the sheets and put on a fresh pair of them, a shade of gray darker than the typical light ones he had.

"Hey." I curled up against him.

"Hi there," he spoke and wrapped his arm around me.

"I was thinking while I was in the bath," I started slowly. His fingers brought hair away from my eyes.

"What about?" He inquired.

"Life. Our life." It was a slow start. I took a deep breath and looked up at him. "I hope you know how happy I am with you. Because I am. I have never been… so content to just be in a relationship and be myself with someone until I met you. The other boyfriends in the past, when I came home at the end of the day or went out with them, it wasn't quite the same as playing a character in front of the camera but it was kind of close. Always acting just a little bit differently than I would when I was alone. But I don't feel that way with you. I'm happy to be with you and I'm happy to just be me with you."

A sweet, chaste kiss answered me. "I wouldn't want you to be anyone else. I wouldn't want you to even try and be anyone other than yourself. I love you, April. I love every single thing about you and I don't want you to change for anyone but yourself. You deserve this kind of happiness."

My heart fluttered inside of my chest. "Do I make you happy?" I asked.

"You do," Jackson nodded. "You know those posts that you always see on Instagram or Pinterest, the ones that pull words from foreign languages and put these beautiful definitions on them? I feel like I need one of those when it comes to you. Cristina, she's the one who told me that grief and joy can exist at the same time. But you're the one who allowed me to feel that way. You give me a purposed joy in the middle of everything else."

"I love you." I couldn't say the words enough, especially not when he was saying something so utterly sweet and heartwarming. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know that we're being mature about the way we move in our relationship, and it's working… but I just want you to know that, too. I want to have a family with you. My sisters all seem so happy with their husbands and their kids and I want that for me, for us." Kids were something that I had brought up with him months ago and he seemed hesitant about the idea then, but now, I don't see the same pause from him. He seemed more comfortable.

"I know." He smiled softly, taking my hand. "I know you, remember?" He kissed the back of my knuckles, taking his time with each individual bump.

"So you've said." I beamed back at him.

"But I will admit, I don't know your ring size." He chuckled.

"Size five." I let out a laugh of my own, crinkling my eyes with the force of the smile that stretched across my cheeks. "I've got skinny little fingers. You know that." He nipped at one playfully as I spoke and only made me grin even more.

"You do, but I'm the only one in this relationship who needs thick ones." Jackson gave a very cocky grin.

"Alright, now it's time for bed, because my body cannot take it if you get horny again."


	16. Chapter 16

**_ JACKSON _ **

Though April doesn't say anything or cry about it, I can tell that she was grieving when her sisters go home.

Snow had finally hit the city now that Thanksgiving had passed and we were deeper into the holiday season. The temperature fluctuations had made that clear, coming and going between pleasant weather and days where the wind made things just a little more nippy than what was possibly comfortable. The right coat and a scarf pretty much covered it, but I had noticed that April wasn't the best at dressing for cold weather. Or, well, she went with more than what was necessary. She was still learning how to find the balance and ended up complaining more often than not when we went out. But she'd wanted to do her fair share of shopping – not for presents necessarily, though I knew she celebrated the holiday because the shopping had almost entirely been for decorations.

Even though I celebrated the holiday too, I had never been much of a decorator. I'd put up a small tree inconsistently, throw blankets would appear on the back of the coach to make for the chill that the wall of windows provided the penthouse with, but that had always been the extent of it. April had made it clear that she found that to be completely unacceptable.

Some compromise had been made about the tree that went in the living room, going with a fake one that already had lights intertwined in the branches to save the hassle that a real tree would have been, and guarantee that there would be one to put up for years to come. Ornament shopping takes much longer than I would have expected, given that so many of them seemed to look alike. Shopping in New York could be the occasional trap on that matter with the ones designed for tourists, but I was pretty good at avoiding those. The tree had been set up and plugged in, gold and red tinsel carefully placed on it, all of the ornaments that we had purchased hung and a crystal star placed on the top of the tree. It looked beautiful and brought much more festivity than my home had in years. Other little decor items had been scattered across the house, dish towels exchanged for red ones and a stuffed reindeer on the couch, bringing out the life in it.

Properly made hot chocolate, with a shot of peppermint schnapps, filled the mugs in both of our hands. Despite the chill that night time brought, we were out on the balcony with blankets draped across us, laying on our backs and staring up at the stars. The light pollution is terrible, even this high in the sky, making most of them difficult to see. But even I was capable of picking out the bright light of the North Star shining above.

"Can you see the rest of the little dipper?" April asked. My eyes were trained on her face instead of the sky, amused by the little furrow wrinkling her brow.

"No," I muttered, placing my hand on her stomach. "I've got my little spoon right here."

"You're so cheesy." Her nose wrinkled.

"We're laying on the balcony and looking at the stars even though I know you're cold as can be. I think we're both cheesy." Fingers tickled against her stomach and she seized with a laugh.

"At least when we're laying down, the glass blocks the wind." She smiled. "Makes it warmer."

"I think if you catch a cold two days before our movie premiere, Owen will kill me. Because he can't kill you and that means it's going to have to be my fault," I laughed.

She shoved at me. "I'm not going to go sick! That's what the hot chocolate is for."

"More like that's what the schnapps is for," I smirked.

The next day, both of our outfits for the premiere of _Terminal_ are delivered to the door. Each one is in a garment bag and mine is a rather simple black tuxedo. Whatever was inside of the garment bag for April, I have no idea. I try to get a glimpse at is as she hung it up in the closet and she slapped my hand away, telling me that I would have to wait and see until tomorrow.

Once Jo comes over, though, I'm pretty much kicked out of my own bathroom and replaced with a giant bag of makeup and more hair products and tools than I realized could possibly go into a look for one night. I've learned not to question that kind of thing – Jo was a sassy, fiery woman. It made perfect sense that she had come onto the movie with April and not the other way around. I was pretty sure that she must have known just as much about me as I thought, if not even more. There was supposedly some kind of bond between a woman and whoever she trusted with her hair.

With a fresh cut from my barber two days ago and just the right amount of beard on my face, it doesn't take me long to get ready. Deodorant and cologne, a little bit of concealer beneath my eyes to ensure that there's no darkness in the natural bag there, getting dressed and smoothing out my suit, running a lint roller over it pretty much is the extent of my process. Putting my watch with one of the looser holes, I took a look over myself in the mirror, smoothing out the lapels.

Yeah, that would do.

Pacing in the length of the living room while I waited for her, I tried not to be impatient. I knew that I would be ready before she was. I'd been pretty bad about running late the past few weeks, but this was big and I didn't want anything to go wrong.

"Jackson!" April's voice called out, snapping my attention away from my phone.

"Yeah?" I called back, pausing in place. "Do you need help?"

"No!" A quick shout blasted back at me. "No, no. Just stay where you are. I just want to know if you're ready."

I chuckled before answering, "I'm ready. No waiting on me tonight."

"Okay, I'll be out in a minute!"

Opening up my Twitter app, I give it a brief scroll through. The more time that we had been spending together, the easier that it had been to get away from all of the traps that it was easy to fall into with social media. But with a movie coming out this weekend, it would be important to get on and throw out a few tweets here and there, just to garner up some attention and more traction for the movie. But it was already projected for a huge opening weekend.

Plenty of buzz had been surrounded built up and that was in part of a few other people working on the screen. I do a small piece – throwing out a tweet of emojis that was a gun plus a doctor's needle emoji equaling a heart. It doesn't take long for it to blow up.

It had become pretty clear that people cared about the two of us as a couple off-screen just as much as they did on-screen. Granted, there was some bias there given that pretty much no one had actually seen us working together besides the preview for the movie. At least by this point, people had stopped talking about the fast pace of our relationship. We had technically known each other over a year now, based on that first photo shoot, even if our relationship had not been that serious for the same amount of time, plus some of the ups and downs that it had. But the tide had turned in our favor, mostly, when it came to gossip magazines.

"Alright, close your eyes!" April's demand came from down the hallway.

I followed the order. "Okay, they're shut."

There was some shuffling and I could hear the sound of high heels clicking against the hardware. It's tempting to peak but I wait until she said so.

"Okay, you can open them now."

April was standing just out of my arm's reach in front of me. Her blouse was a blush pink and structured almost like something out of an eighty's video but at the same time a little more modern, the deep v-neck that dragged attention to her breasts catching my attention immediately. The black skirt that she paired with it rested on top of her hips and was short and tight, just reaching mid-thigh on her. She looked like a goddamn start – like she should have been walking down the stage at New York Fashion Week all on her own. It was an incredibly sexy look, dark eye makeup adding to it and hair down, seeming even longer than usual with the middle part and waves.

"Fuck," I swore. "How the hell am I supposed to walk out of the house and not take you right now?"

Jo laughed. "Yep, that means my job is done."

"You really like it, huh?" April's face was lit up.

"Damn right."

"Well, good. You'll get to take it off of me tonight." She winked. "But for now, we need to get going."

I stepped toward her to close the distance, bending down and pressing my lips into hers with a hard kiss. God, if we had time for a quickie right now, it damn sure would have been taken. She looked irresistible.

"Okay, now we can go."

Before we get out the door, Jo stopped the both of us to get a few shots of April in her outfit and some up close ones of her hair and makeup. She also looked a photo of the two of us together, but I couldn't take my eyes off of April with the way that she was looking.

"Did you pick this out?" I asked in the limousine, fingers running along the edge of her skirt.

"No," April shook her head. "Izzie did."

"I'm going to have to write her a thank you note," I smirked, setting my hand on the inside of her thigh.

She leaned over, kissing me gently. "We can't do this here. We'll be there any minute."

April was right, even if I didn't want her to be. Only a few more minutes pass before the limo was pulling to a stop outside of the premiere and the familiar sound of people screaming for the both of us was coming. This was her movie, though, and I wanted her to have the spotlight.

Getting out of the car before she was, I turned around and offered her my hand to help her get out of the car, blocking the view in case her skirt is too short to get out of the car easily. But then I let her take the lead. Hearing people scream and shout for her was an experience and she killed the red carpet with every look and turn. There wasn't a thing that she couldn't do. For interviews, the two of us separate, but I nearly only talk about her. The focus on the movie was her, after all. I wanted to make sure that she got absolutely every ounce of credit and recognition that she deserved.

As the star of the movie, April spent a little more time out of the red carpet with all of the press asking answers and taking photos than I did. Once my job was done, I head inside and grab a drink before waiting for her near the entrance. It doesn't take too long for her to get inside and join me, grabbing my drink from my hands and taking a sip of it.

"They love you," I praised. "All I was talking about was you. Not us. Who would've guessed that happened? They normally love taking advantage of every possible advantage to ask about us."

"Really?" Her smiled shined. "That makes me happy. I like that."

"That's what happens when you're talented." I bent down and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"Shhhh," she huffed out. "I hate coming to my own premieres. I hate having to actually see myself on the big screen. It's humiliating."

"Why is it humiliating?" I questioned.

April sighed. "All I can do is watch and criticize myself. I've had one or two premieres where I definitely accidentally drank a little too much before the movie started because I was so nervous." With those words, I take my drink back out of her hand.

"Well, we can avoid that. I have an idea for a distraction." I smiled. "Just trust me."

As everyone headed into the theatre, the two of us were no different. The people settled in a few minutes before the movie finally began playing on the screen. I hadn't seen the movie for its entirety, and it was tempting to watch her on screen. She had an engaging presence and was impossible not to watch on the big screen, ordinarily.

My hand rested on her thigh as the movie started, glancing over at her occasionally as the plot began to develop on the big screen and kept everyone else in the room distracted from her. I moved my hand up just a little higher, and she crossed and refolded her legs in the other direction. She finally gave me a little glance when I pressed my fingers into the inside of her thigh on the inside of her skirt. There was a little furrow of her brow, a few seconds passing before recognition clicked into place.

Her legs uncrossed. I take it as an invitation, going a little higher on her thigh. She had on thin lace panties. I could feel them as I ran my fingers over her covered folds, a little feeling here and there finding the hood of her clit. A few circles and her hips shifted, slouching forward in her seat and opening her thighs a little wider.

Fingering her in the middle of a movie premiere with dozens of other celebrities and important people is the last thing that I should be doing. But her hands folded in her lap, one hand wrapping around my wrist and pulling me in a little closer as my fingers curled inside of her. I know when I hit that spot from the sudden tightening of her walls around my fingers. The angle on my wrist is uncomfortable but it doesn't matter. Two scenes later and I can feel the orgasm hit her and I keep going for another scene until a second orgasm hit her, finally pulling my fingers out and licking them clean, making sure that she looked at it.

Applause filled up the theatre at the end of the premiere, people coming back to give her congratulations as they made their way out and to the after party. Fortunately, by then, she's not as flushed as she had been.

But the limousine is taken full advantage of on the drive between the premier and the after party, laying out across the long seat as she rode me, not bothering to take off anything, just pushing aside her soaked panties so that she could sink on top of me. I have no clue if the driver can hear us, but he doesn't say a word when we get out of the car and head into the party to drink and dance away the night.

"Did you read this review?" April asked.

"Yep. I agree that you are the hottest Bond." Maybe we spend a little too much time on social media together.

The movie is a success.

Opening weekend is one of the most successful movie premieres of the year, and more successful than _Skyfall_ had been. We celebrate with champagne and literally clothes for the majority of the weekend. Twitter is lit up with praise and everything else. We both retweet a few lucky fans here and there, indulging in pretty much every way possible.

It sets the holiday mood right. The phone call invitation that comes from her all three of her sisters at the same time is no surprise. She doesn't need to ask me to accept the invitation. She knew I wanted to go just as much as she did.

Moline, Ohio turns out to be just as much of a bum town as she had described it to be. It wasn't really a town – it didn't even have its own post office or zip code, and I wasn't sure that it was much more than the farms of the families who lived there. The guest bedroom of Alice's house is offered to us for the nights leading up to and a few more after Christmas.

"Welcome home!" Alice shouted as April stepped into the front door.

"Hi, Allie." She smiled, hugging her tightly. "Oh, you look great. You look so healthy."

"Healthy as a horse," she chirped.

"Hey, April, Jackson," her husband – Don – greeted the both of us. He looked a little nervous.

"Nice to see you again," I smiled at him, offering my hand. He gave a firm shake. "How's the little girl doing?"

Don lit up. "Oh, she's great," he bragged. "Diana's grown since the last time you've seen her, I'm sure of it."

"Guess you'll have to prove it to me." I smiled.

Leaving the two sisters to catch up with each other, I let Don give me a tour of their house and show to me his daughter's nursery. He had apparently built the crib himself an impressive feat, given that it looked like something I would have seen in a department store. He had been a worried mess in New York when Alice had been in the hospital, and even if he still seemed a little nervous now, I figured it was the star effect. He calmed down instantly with his daughter.

"You and Alice are doing okay after the accident, right?" I looked up at him from across the crib where his daughter was currently snuggled tightly and sleeping. "No money problems or anything from the hospital?" It didn't hurt to check.

"Yeah, we're doing well," Don nodded. "I gotta tell you, that was the scariest moment of my life, thinking I might lose her."

"I can't imagine." Even if April and I had been through a lot, I couldn't imagine that.

"That's a good thing." He touched his daughter's chest lightly, rubbing her affectionately. "I love this little girl just as much as I do her momma. But I don't want to raise her alone."

Baby Diana stirred slightly, light eyes opening up. She whined and Don picked her up.

"She's a beautiful baby," I complimented her. "Looks like you and Alice are doing a good job."

"I hope so," he smiled. "Do you want to hold her?"

I didn't know the last time I'd held a baby. And yet… "Yeah, I would like that."

Moving around the crib so I could stand directly in front of him, I formed a cradle with my arms and Don set his daughter inside of them gently. She gave one more little whine before looking up at me with wide eyes. All of the Kepner sisters had the same hazel eyes, and that was true of this little girl, too. I wondered what a child with April would have looked like. A bit darker, certainly, easier to pick out of the family photos than the baby in my arms would have been. Being a father seemed like such a distant idea, even if April and I weren't always careful. But it seemed attainable with her.

"Wow," I murmured. "She's so small."

He laughed. "Oh, no, she's so much bigger than she was when she was born. Six pounds then. Of course, if I called her small back then, Alice would say she certainly didn't feel small inside of her."

"Can't imagine," I laughed. "She's so calm. And those big eyes…"

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" He asked.

"Huh?" I looked at him.

"You and April, kids." He clarified. "I recognized that look. Of course, I'm pretty sure I had it the first time that I met Alice, long before I kissed her or we got married. I just knew when I met her, that she was the one."

"Seems like Kepner women are pretty good at wrangling in men." That was a familiar feeling. Even if I hadn't known at the time, I had known that there was some chemistry there. But the first time I had met her, walking away, I had been concerned about her getting over the bias that she held against me for not being some kind of talented actor. Now that was one of the last things on my mind. "I do think about it," I admitted.

"Has she brought it up?"

"Yeah." Size five ring. I hadn't forgotten it.

"That's how a woman tells you that she's ready for it, you know," Don offered his own advice. "Dropping a hint here or there pretty much means that they're ready to drag you down the aisle themselves and get started."

"How long did you wait to propose to Alice?" I asked.

"Six months." Well, damn. That alleviated any worries that I had about time. It was clear they were happy and good for each other.

Of course, that kind of thing was a little easier out of the spotlight.

"There are my babies," Alice cooed when she walked into the nursery with April on her heels. "Oh, is little miss up from her nap? My sweet baby, I didn't even hear you cry."

"She didn't." I looked up at April as I passed the baby to her mother. Our eyes locked and we shared a smile.

The next day, Don allowed April and I to borrow his truck so she could go visit her childhood home. Her father still lived there. She let me drive and it's only difficult to keep my eyes on the road as she directed me because I want to be watching her. She was antsy. Even though her mother had always seemed to be the center of her blame, her father had been right there and done nothing to stop it. He didn't have the same excuse of being a child that her sisters did. Whether or not she would forgive it, or he would be worthy of forgiveness, was up in the air.

I linger just behind her as she knocked on the door. It's a small house, I can't imagine four little girls running around it, even with the acres and acres of land around it. There was nothing to see except for miles of corn.

When the door finally opened and an older man appeared on the other side, there was silence for a few long seconds.

"April?" Her father questioned.

"Hello." It was the stiffest and formal I had ever seen her.

"Oh, April." He breathed out and stepped forward, bringing her in for a hug that she doesn't reciprocate. I step closer to the both of them and clear my throat, glaring at him. He looked up at me before he pulled away from her. "You're home. You finally came home. I told your mother you would. I always knew you would. If only she was here to see it."

"It's been twelve– no, thirteen years, Dad." She shifted her weight from side to side.

"Too long," he sighed out. "Your mother, you know how she was. I always told her she needed to call and forgive you, or she was going to die without knowing you, and I was right. I didn't want to be right." He shook his head. "Come in, sweetheart, come in. This is your home."

She hesitated. After a small pause, though, she gave a nod of her head and stepped inside. I followed her. The house was clearly aging. It must have been difficult for him to keep up with it on his own.

"Why didn't you call?" Her voice cracked. She was moments away from tears. "If you wanted to, why didn't you?"

"Oh, April…" Joe sighed out. "It's not that black and white."

"I'm not a child!" She shouted. "I'm thirty years old. I've worked my ass off and made myself successful when you ensured that I had nothing because of you. Now I am rich and successful and… you never called. Not for money, not to talk to me, not for anything. Yet now, you act like it's just nothing. No big deal. So why? Why didn't you call?" I placed my hand on her lower back, not interrupting.

"I don't have an answer that you're going to like." He walked over to a living room chair, sitting down slowly. "I wanted to, for a while, but I didn't know how to call you."

"Apparently it wasn't that hard. I never changed numbers." That was a fact that I hadn't known.

"Well, I didn't know that. But you're here now. Isn't that enough?" He asked.

"No. No! You don't get some kind of free pass just because you're my father. We might be family, but it's only by blood and it's been that way for over a decade. You never tried. You too right by her side when she blamed me and didn't even try to fight for me. I was a child! I was a child and you were the parent, and instead of doing your job, you just let go. You stopped and let go and left me to suffer." Her hands were shaking now, a tear having slipped out.

"I'm sorry, Ducky."

"Don't call me that!" She yelled. "You don't get to do that!"

He frowned. "You're my daughter. You're still my daughter."

"No, I'm not." She snapped. "I'm my own person. I don't belong to anyone. Not to you or anyone else. I have been no one other than my own for a long, long time now."

"I'm sorry," he apologized weakly.

"You should be." Some of her energy was fading. "You should be." She repeated in a harsh whisper.

Before anything else could be exchanged between them, April turned on her heel suddenly and stormed out, leaving the front door wide open. I turned and followed her quickly without saying a word to her father. If he could still treat his daughter like that so many years later, he wasn't worth her energy and he wasn't worth mine.

"April," I called out after her, hoping to get her to slow down.

She had stopped in front of the hood of the truck, hands resting on it and bent forward at her waist, head nearly on it. She was panting heavily as if she'd been exercising.

"April," I repeated her name and she doesn't look up. "Take a few deep breaths, okay?"

She nodded her head, listening to me and breathing loudly. "Breathing is not the problem. He is."

"I know," I placed my hand on her back slowly, rubbing it. "And you don't have to forgive him. You don't owe him a single thing. we're here for your sisters, to spend Christmas with the three of them, not him. Not anyone that you don't want to be with. Your family is who you want it to be and you're under absolutely no obligation to include him in it. Tell your sisters what happened, and I'm sure that they will agree."

"I'm sure that you're right." She slowly straightened back up, lids fluttering as she tried to blink back her tears. "No, I know that you are. I guess… I just got this idea because of them, that maybe he had changed, too. I wasn't ready for him to be incapable of accepting any blame."

I wrapped my arms around her. "I know, sweetheart, I know," I murmured. "But trust me, with all of your sisters' husbands in the family, I think we've got more than enough white guys in the family."

That was enough to make her laugh.

On the night before Christmas, everyone spent the night at Libby's house. Everyone except their father. As the oldest, Libby had taken to receding his invitation and having everyone over at her house instead of their childhood home. With her three kids, it was the largest, and each sister and her family could take one of the kid's bedrooms while Libby and her family were all in the master bedroom. There was a real, giant Christmas tree in the living room that had been decorated and candles lit everywhere, tinsel around the stair tails. It looked like a house out of some Southern Living magazine. Kimmie and Alice both insisted that Libby did it every year, that it wasn't just something special with having all of he sisters home for the holidays. With so many kids and laughter filling the house, it felt like a real holiday.

Christmas morning is all about the kids, of course. April had gone overboard with presents for them and everyone else, primarily enlisting me in carrying and wrapping the gifts. Though even that had been a stretch as she had criticized my less than perfect wrapping skills, rightfully so. But I still manage to steal her attention with a purchase that she hadn't seen.

"Oh, Jackson…" Her voice got my attention. "You did this, didn't you?" She asked.

"Uh-huh," I nodded. "Open it."

She clawed off the wrapping paper to reveal a little white box. As she opened it up, she revealed a stunning diamond necklace on the inside, the outline of a heart connected to the long silver chain. She lifted it up from its setting in the box, running her thumb over the tiny diamonds embedded into it.

"This is beautiful," she breathed out, looking up at me. "Oh, it's beautiful. Here, you have to put it on me. Then open mine."

Moving her hair out of the way, I clasp the necklace behind her neck. She fixed her hair for a moment and looked down at where it hung between her breasts, just over her heart. Though it might have been a little long for some, she seemed to like it. It would easily disappear beneath clothing as well. I wasn't sure how flashy she would want to be.

"Here, open mine." She pushed the box into my hands.

With her neat wrapping skills, it's easy to get the paper off of the box – about double the size that mine had been. Opening it up, a Cartier watch rested inside of it, a moderate size with a thick black band. I stripped off the watch I was wearing immediately and as I picked it up, an engraving on the back of the watch face caught my eye.

_Me & You.  
J & A._

"This is incredible, April." Imitating her motions, I ran my thumb over the engraving before turning over my left wrist so that I could put the watch on. It fit easily in one of the middle holes in the brand and I admired it on my wrist. "Incredible."

"I'm glad you like it." She leaned forward, cupping my face with a kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too," I murmured back, brushing my nose against hers.

With our fingers intertwined as we sat on the same chair in the living room together, sitting normally myself and with April half on the arm and her lower legs draped in front of mine, all of the nieces and nephews come forward with adorable thank you's and hugs for the presents that she had gotten him. They were all too young to have seen anything that she was in, yet they looked up at her with the same love and admiration that any fan would have done. All they knew was that she was their aunt and that she was rich and famous, and they loved her. They thought she was family.

It looked like being a shitty person was an anomaly of the Kepner family, not the norm.

There was one Christmas tradition that I wasn't ready for, and that was caroling the neighborhood. Kimmie and Alice seem to be the most excited about dressing up despite the freezing cold temperatures, and thankfully, it seems much easier to do in Libby's neighborhood than it would have been at Alice's. The houses are all packed together.

So like the rest of the Kepners, April and I make our way from house to house with the rest of the plan singing Christmas carols as if it was something that we had done every year. Most of the houses recognize her face and I'm sure that it was from the television more than her sister's presence in the neighborhood from the level of enamoring that they stared at both of us with. I try to blend in, but don't have a lot of luck with it. April was doing an easier job. The red hair probably helped a lot. But something about walking around the neighborhood and singing, watching people light up with joy and amusement, it gives me a different idea. One that I would have never come up with on my own.

All of the kids go to bed early and without much fuss, that night, having been appropriately worn out by the activities of the day. That gives all of the adults a pretty solid excuse to break out the red wine that hadn't been drunk with dinner.

"Did you hear little Jack during Joy To The World?" Kimmie laughed, wine sloshing in her glass as she elbowed Libby playfully. "His little voice is so high. It's so cute."

"Gosh, he's grown so much since last year!" Alice chimed in.

"Oh, remember last year?" Libby laughed before continuing. "Alice, you were so pregnant and waddling even though you weren't due for another two months."

"Well, that's you this year!" She defended herself with a laugh. "But one month."

My eyes turned to April as her sisters chattered back and forth about the past holidays that they had spent together, making sure that she wasn't too forlorn about the discussion of the past. After all, the two of us were living much more in the present than they were. After what had happened, that was just natural. But I was beginning to think more and more about the future now.

"You know what song I've got stuck in my head now? Nothing to do with Christmas." I spoke up.

"What's that?" April asked.

" _Look into my eyes and you'll see, I'm the only one. You've captured my love. Stolen my heart. Changed my life._ "

Breaking out in song by myself was a much more vulnerable thing than what I was used to. Freddie Mercury was certainly a hard voice to try and live up to, and even if I wasn't a bad singer, I'm certainly not capable of living up to him. Either way, I extend a hand to April as I began to sang and she took it. I spun her in a circle in my arms as I continued serenading her. Everyone else in the room had fallen quiet as they watched me spin her around and sing to her.

" _So please don't go. Don't leave me here all by myself. I get ever so lonely from time to time. I will find you, anywhere you go, I'll be right behind you, right until the ends of the Earth._ "

Holding her in my arms as I repeated the necessary lyrics of my arm, I placed a kiss on her forehead. The sisters clap and I have to resist the urge to laugh because I wasn't done yet. There was one more exposed thing that I wanted to do here, while I was in front of the only family that mattered to either one of us.

"One more thing," I pressed a kiss into her forehead and stepped back slightly, holding onto one hand.

"Are you sure that you haven't had too much to drink?" April teased me.

"I'm positive." I smiled.

Taking a step back, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the other small, black box that I had gotten while I was at the jewelry store. I had seen it and thought of her immediately. Dropping down onto one knee, there was a collective gasp from the redheaded women in the room. There was no doubt that she knew without me having to say the words, that sparkle in her hazel eyes as she beamed down at me.

"April Kepner, would you do me the great honor of being my wife?"


	17. Chapter 17

**_ APRIL _ **

"April Kepner, would you do me the great honor of being my wife?"

With everyone in the room staring at only me, my heart nearly skipped a beat in my chest as the question came from Jackson. Even though I had been thinking about it for weeks since I had dropped my ring size, wondering if it was going to happen soon or if he would take things slow for the sake of being cautious, the last place that I would have expected it to happen was the night of Christmas in front of the only family that mattered. But I knew what he was saying to them with that – he wanted them to have an important role in our lives, just like I did. He had accepted them into our lives. This was his family too, even if it wasn't official yet.

But it was taking one giant step toward becoming much more official.

"Yes! Yes, of course, yes." I nearly fell onto him as he stood up, grabbing his face and pulling him against me for a kiss. One just steamy enough that I'm glad it's just my sisters and not my nieces or nephews in the room.

"Thank you." Another quick peck on the lips was given as he slipped the ring on my finger.

It was a thin band with a low setting, from the top view looking like two pieces of metal twisted together, diamonds set just in one of the bands. It was absolutely beautiful, subtle and elegant. The only thing that would truly give away to the press that it was an engagement ring between the two of us was the fact that it was on my fourth finger.

"It's so beautiful," I smiled at him, pressing my forehead against his as if the two of us were the only ones in the room. "This is so gorgeous. And it matches my necklace." I chuckled.

"That was not planned." He admitted, his arms settling around my waist. "I know you hate surprises."

"Shhh," I shook my head. "This is the good kind of surprise."

"Congratulations!"

"Oh my gosh!"

Though the moment was necessarily ruined by the cheers and joyful cries that come from my three sisters and brothers-in-law in the room, it's not quite as private as I would have liked. Not because the presence of my family made me feel pressured into saying yes, it could not have been further than that. But because I wanted to do nothing but hold him and kiss him as if there was nothing else in the universe that mattered as much as he did to me. They all get up from their seats to hug the both of us and my brothers-in-law shake Jackson's hand with a teasing threat to take good care of me as if they had known me as long as they had known my sisters. I have to blink back the tears that come to the surface.

That night when we settle into the tiny bed of Libby's middle child, his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close to his chest. It was a little bit necessary given that the bed was designed for a child and not two adults, yet it felt more special than it ever had. My fiancé was holding me.

"I have an odd request to make." We had previously fallen quiet. Sometimes words weren't necessary but his sudden interest piqued my interest, twisting my neck to look over my shoulder at him.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Well, it's traditional for the bride to take her husband's name." My nose scrunched up. I was well aware of the tradition and all of my sisters had done it – technically, I was the only Kepner daughter left. I'd always thought it was an antiquated tradition. "But I don't want you to do that. Actually, I was thinking about the opposite. The Avery name is… a bit tainted. I don't want to be associated with my grandfather and what he did. Now with my mother's death, it doesn't make a lot of sense for me to revert to her maiden name. So I was wondering if I could have your name instead."

The request is such a surprising one that I nearly don't believe what he was saying at first. Twisting around and barely managing not to accidentally tumble onto the floor, I faced him. My nose hit his chin as I tried to look up and meet his gaze, straining my head back.

"Are you serious right now?" I asked, only able to see the blurry outline of his face in the dark.

"I am." Jackson nodded. "I know that it's non-traditional but it's not like there's a whole lot about us that's traditional. I figured this would just be one more little thing."

"It's not a little thing," I pointed out. "It's big. It's your name."

"Uh-huh," he hummed. "And I'm sure that I'm going to get called a pussy by thousands of men on Twitter, but I don't care. I love you. I love every part of you and that includes your name. Consider it?" He suggested softly.

"I don't need to consider it." Our noses bump as I find his lips in the dark, kissing him sweetly. "I like it. Jackson Kepner. Very country."

He laughed. "Well, I might take the name, but I think I'll stick to the city life."

"I do like our city life very much," I agreed. "Don't get me wrong, coming home has been… a whirlwind of emotions, mostly positive, but I don't think I was ever meant to just live in some small town. I loved Los Angeles and I love New York, too. Mostly because you have the most amazing penthouse."

"Well, what's mine is yours. Soon enough, at least." He kissed me again.

"What's mine is yours," I smiled at the sentiment. "It already feels that way, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it does," he paused for a few seconds. I thought he might be ready to go to sleep until he spoke again. "And my grandfather said that he never wanted me to touch a drop of Avery money again. Well, technically, he didn't say a thing about you having it. Let's do it without a prenup agreement. You get every piece of me, no strings attached."

"Really?" My brows furrowed as I processed. "Okay. I'm fine with that. No prenup."

On the 28th of December, we fly back from Moline to JFK airport. I'm careful to keep my engagement ring tucked away inside of my makeup bag when we get off the plane and the necklace is easily hidden with the necessary coats for the snow that covered the ground outside. We wanted to control when the information went public and we trusted my family not to spill the beans. But I slip the beautiful ring on the second that we were alone in our place again, finally able to make love like we wanted to. It had just been too weird to try and do it in my niece's bedroom no matter how exciting the engagement was.

We decided not to wait long to spill the beans about the fact that we were getting married and very, very excited about it.

On New Year's Eve, I was invited to a giant party and naturally bring Jackson as my guest. I was sure that was expected of me given that any time one of us was out, it seemed like the other was attached right at the hip. I recognize most of the faces in the room – models, actors, and musicians everywhere, big and small names across each industry. I wear the ring on my finger proudly and wait until there's a group of our friends and colleagues around to loudly draw attention to it, pointing it out before kissing Jackson hard. I make sure that it stands out more than the tight, sparkly dress I have on.

A little messy with champagne in my hand, pretty much everyone wanted to know the same thing: details about the wedding. Neither one of us have answers for them. It had only been a few days, but it was a nice project to be able to take on at the beginning of the year.

"I can't believe you're really getting married!" Amelia all but shouted over the music.

"I can!" We both laughed loudly.

"He must be really good in bed." She suggested. I gave a nod of my head, smirking. "Good for you! God knows he's some of the best eye candy out there. If you've ever interested in a threesome, let me know, because I have to admit, thinking about what those eyes must look like from between your legs is totally enough to get me hot."

I nearly spat my champagne back into the glass. "First of all, if we have ever had a threesome, it would have to be with another guy. Sorry! And second of all, it is totally, totally hot." I giggled.

"Well, I'm pretty sure that you'll have a long line of guys ready to jump in with you two. You are going to have the most beautiful wedding photos, Keps. You're hot. He's hot." Her words slurred together slightly. "You should definitely do some of those not safe for work shots, too. You gotta do it while you're still young."

"I'm not getting old! I'll only be thirty-one this year, thank you very much." I huffed.

"And he's what? Thirty-four?"

"Thirty-three." A quick correction.

"Mm. Well, I suppose I won't be surprised if he stays hot forever with those eyes and abs. He's going to be, like, total Daniel Craig material when he's older. Ah! Which is hilarious, 'cause you should really be the Daniel Craig." Her arm slung around my shoulders. "Speaking of, do you think he's here? You two should totally get a photo together if he is. People would love that."

I wrapped my arm around her waist. She must have been drinking more than I was. "Maybe. But shh, he might hate me for outselling his movie." I placed my fingers on my lips though my volume was still loud.

"What are you two little devils whispering about?" Jackson snuck up behind me, pinching my ass as he spoke so I jumped.

"Just my super sexy fiance." I smiled. "You should meet him sometime."

"I should," he beamed. "Although he might not like that I'm trying to steal you away from him."

Letting go of Amelia and slinging both of my arms around his neck, I hauled myself up so that I could kiss him long and hard. Nothing else in the room mattered or drew my attention until Amelia gave a whistle to catcall at the both of us and I rolled my eyes while they were still shut before I pulled away from him.

"You really are serious about that threesome, huh?" I chuckled.

"Threesome?" Jackson's eyebrows shot up. "Is there something that I need to know about?"

"Nothing, honey." I patted his cheek and smiled up at him dreamily. "She's projecting her fantasies. But I said it's going to have to be a guy. Sorry."

"Eh, if you're naked, I might not even notice a guy." He kissed my lips, then my jaw, then just behind my ear. "You might want to slow down just a bit on the alcohol. We've still got another twenty minutes before midnight and I am very certain that I'm going to be kissing someone when the time's right."

"Me. You're kissing me. Me and only me." I stated possessively.

His hands settled on the small of my back. "You won't get any complaints from me."

"Good. 2019 is going to be so fun!" Leaning against him lazily, I continued. "It's going to be a new year. You're going to have a new last name. You'll have to get a new driver's license! We'll have new thingies on our tax forms. What other new things?"

"I don't know." Jackson laughed loudly. "We'll figure it out."

As midnight inched nearer and nearer, the buzz of the party only grew more. I take Jackson's advice and down a glass of water to try and balance out the three glasses of champagne that I had already managed to work my way through. That was the problem with parties like this starting so early and trays of liquor just being walked around – it was so easy to just take a glass without thinking twice about it until the buzz was already well established.

"Five, four, three, two, one!" The crowd shouted.

Jackson leaned down to meet me, his arm tight around my waist and my back bent as I pulled him down against me with all of the strength in my body. His tongue met mine and we kissed long past the length of time that was generally acceptable for this kind of thing. He gets a handful of ass in his hands and gives it a squeeze that leaves me wanting more. It's not like either one of us was above getting a little frisky in public but it was a little more scandalous with all of the lights on and way too many cameras around

Instead, I make up for it in the car ride home. Undoing his pants in the back seat of a limo with just the two of us, I take his cock out of his pants and don't stop until I've swallowed his salty cum. A little bit gets on my dress, messier then intended, but it comes off easily.

It's well past noon the next day when the both of us wake up with a hangover from Hell.

"I'm never getting up," I complained.

"I'm right there with you." Jackson groaned.

Except throughout the course of the day, both of our phones are ringing far too often than my headache plowing through would have liked. Some of it was friends with congratulations because the news had apparently gone viral last night, some of it with media outlets wanting comments. Nothing too out of the ordinary, all things considered, but infinitely more annoying when sleeping away the start of the New Year was tempting.

We confirm together with matching photos online, my hand on top of his and fingers interlocked with one another. No caption, no other comments, just the photo of our two hands together. That was all that was necessary.

Sometimes there was no need to go over the top.

Simple dates, though, mean trying to avoid the paparazzi which wasn't always easy. Most of the time, they had enough respect to leave us alone once we got inside somewhere – or at least, they wanted to stay away from causing trouble with a store owner. But ice skating in Central Park was public. Wollman Rink was so nice and crowded enough with other people brave enough to ice skate despite the chilly weather, though, that it at least felt like the two of us were able to blend in with all of the other couples, friends, and families running around.

"Careful, careful!" Hysterical laughter slipped through my lips as I grabbed Jackson's arms.

"How the hell are you so good at this?" Jackson shot back, legs wobbling.

"It's all about balance." I smiled. "Maybe if you went to yoga with me instead of just looking at my butt in my yoga pants, then maybe you'd be better at it." I pushed at him playfully.

"Hey! Oh–" Not stable enough to manage the push, he wobbled before falling onto his butt.

"Sorry. Oh, god, sorry!" Turning back toward him, I offered both of my hands. He took them and I helped to pull him back up to my feet, sliding back across the ice as I did so and nearly losing my own balance. "Okay, next time you get up on your own. I've already had one broken bone this last year."

"Fair enough," he laughed as he stabilized himself. "Alright, I've got all of the falling out of my system."

I laughed. "Are you sure about that?"

"Well if I do, next time, I'm pulling you down with me." As he spoke, I grabbed his gloved hand so we could resume gliding around the rink.

"Then I'll just have to keep lifting you up." I smiled.

"Do you think we'll do this with our kids?" He asked. "Ice skate, out in the open like this? I think the tabloids would have a field day."

"You're thinking about kids." I smiled at him. While we were engaged, I didn't mind pushing off the thoughts. I had distractions with a wedding to plan. "Ice skate, sure. They can go ice skating with me and skiing with you. Maybe not out in the open. It'll be hard enough for them to grow up with two famous parents, don't you think?"

"Uh-huh. You don't want too much spotlight." He nodded his head. "But you don't want to hide them away, either. It's a balancing act. Too much of either can be a bad thing."

He was right. Too much of either could be a bad thing.

All of the magazines that liked to speculate about what kind of wedding we were having went above and beyond with some things that were way too ridiculous, even for someone like me who liked theatrics and a bit of the spotlight. Or a lot of the spotlight. Some speculated that it would be a wedding everyone would remember, which I thought was ridiculous. Neither one of us wanted some giant wedding with everyone who was anyone invited to it. That was putting on a show for the world, not getting married. We easily could have had a wedding with hundreds of people if we wanted that, but neither one of us did.

Of course, not enough would have been going to the courthouse and getting hitched with some singular individual to act as our witness and sign off on the papers for legal purposes. Neither one of us wanted that, either. But there was some joy to be found in getting a sense of privacy and control. Or maybe that was just for me. Weddings were a classic opportunity for anyone to go crazy with being a control freak. I didn't need the excuse. But the best that I could do to try and keep my hands off was to keep things simple and private.

My planning does get a little obsessive, though, and takes up a lot of space once I get deep into it. Everything was simpler to figure out when I wrote it down and color-coordinated all of my notes.

"Oh, Jackson, come here!" I shouted. I was seated on the couch, everything for the wedding spread out across the coffee table.

"What's up?" He asked.

"I found the perfect place for the reception." I motioned him closer with my finger. "Haven's Kitchen. A promise of the best food that we could possibly get. And it's also so pretty and romantic looking. You have to love it."

The next six months of wedding planning flew by. I understood suddenly why more people suddenly took over a year to plan their wedding – there were so many details that were impossible to keep up with. It truly felt like a full-time job, not something from a romcom.

Owen pushes me to go through with pilot season and yet, I don't. A few months ago it would have been the only thing that I could focus on, drowning myself in work to get every other thought out of my head, but now I didn't need to focus on it. I was happy enough with how my personal life was going that distractions weren't needed as they had been before. This was certainly the first time in my life that had ever been the truth. I had never taken the time to focus on my personal life. But that was because I had never been able to do it in a healthy way as I could now.

On my birthday, he does something completely wild and unprecedented. Jackson took me on a helicopter ride around the city of New York, pointing out all of the sights from above. It was magnificent.

But nothing compares to the day.

"Sit still." Jo pulled at my hair and it barely stung at the roots.

"I'm trying." I huffed out.

"Your trying sucks today," she remarked. "You're never this squirmy for me."

"Well, it's not every day that I'm getting married."

Shutting my eyes, I breathed in deeply through my nose. The calmness that comes lasts for only a few seconds. I can smell the coconut from the product that Jo had put in my hair and it was soothing but not quite strong enough that it was easy to focus on.

"Your hair is curling perfectly," Jo remarked. "You're going to look so beautiful."

"You look beautiful too," I smiled. "I'm glad that you're here."

"I almost wasn't sure I would make the cut," she laughed. "Less than fifty people? And what, a quarter of it is just your sisters and their families? Phew. You had me sweating."

"You're like my favorite cousin. The cool, older once, even if you're my age. You know that."

It had been a tight cut to make and it was pretty much only as big as it was because of my sisters, their husbands, and their children taking up spaces at the table. Jo and Amelia were both there, Benjamin Warren, Owen, and a handful of others. Our photographer was the one who had taken Jackson under his wing, half attending as a job and half as a friend – the world famous Mark Sloan. He had taken our engagement photos earlier in the year which the Internet had loved.

There was a knock on the door and I looked up at Jo curiously. She looked back at me before shrugging her shoulders and walked over to open the door. I watch in the mirror and when I see Jackson's reflection in the mirror, I ducked down immediately and covered my head with both arms so that he couldn't see me.

"Jackson!" I squealed. "You're not supposed to be in here! Go away!" I protested.

"I'm not looking. Seeing the back of your head doesn't count. My eyes are shut now, look for yourself." He suggested. Separating my fingers and raising up my head, his eyes weren't staring back at me in the mirror. It was just the back of his lids and Jo standing to his side. I huffed out, straightening back up and making sure that I hadn't messed up any of the curls that she had been working on.

"You better hope they don't count," I whined. We had already had our share of bad luck. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to hear your voice one more time before you walk down the aisle. And steal a kiss, if you'll let me."

I stood up slowly, making sure that my feet don't make any noise across the carpet as I walked toward him. I don't say a word until I was right in front of him, stretching up my toes and placing a very gentle kiss against his lips. There was a moment of surprise before he reciprocated.

"There you go," I smiled against his mouth. "Now shoo!"

Jackson and Jo both let out loud laughter as I pushed him playfully away and he caught himself on the door frame. Smiling from ear to ear, I shut the door and made my way back over to the hair and makeup chair. I hadn't expected him to do that. Yet that fluttering was there inside my chest. All I would have to do is touch my chest to feel it beating inside my chest.

"You two are ridiculous and I love it. By the way, did you know Japril is trending on Twitter? Jackson and April. Japril. Your couple name works so well." She looked all too pleased.

"It's my wedding day, I'm not on Twitter today. I am living in the moment." I quipped.

Loud, pounding fists on the door caused me to jerk my head up to look at the reflection of it in the mirror. I could hear giggling on the other side and it was clear there were three giggling Kepner's on the other side of the door.

"Oh, I know who that is," I remarked before calling out loudly. "Come in!"

The door opened and they all rushed in. "Oh, Ducky!" Kimmie cried out.

"April, you look so beautiful," Libby gushed.

"Your hair is so pretty and long." Alice smiled, coming up to touch one curl. She smiled at Jo.

"Thank you. Thank all of you," I smiled. "I'm glad that you could make it."

"As if we would be anywhere else today," Libby smiled. "Please tell me she is done with your hair because I cannot wait to see you in a dress. I know that you picked out something gorgeous. You always look so pretty whenever you're on a red carpet somewhere."

I laughed. "Well, that's only because I don't pick them out myself. But we're almost done."

"Just a second." Jo held up her finger before grabbing the hair piece. It was one of hers, not might. She placed the hair clip over the back of the skinny crown braid. "There we go. Something borrowed."

"Do you count as the something old by yourself?" Alice teased, hugging me as she stood up.

"Only with you in the room." I rolled my eyes. "That could be Libby, though."

"Well, I was just about to compliment you again, but I take that back." Libby quipped.

Standing up, I walked over to where my dress was hanging in the garment bag and unzipped it slowly. It was a snow white Monique Lhuillier dress, embellished with layers and layers of tulle on the skirt. The theme of the wedding was romantic and it fit perfectly, both with the theme and on my body. A delicate illusion neckline is framed by flutter sleeves with a deep neck, allowing the necklace that Jackson had gifted me on Christmas hanging clearly. The bead and sequin embellishments brought life and sparkle to the dress. I had put it on and immediately felt like a princess. Jo and Izzie had been with me, and I had known then that it was the one.

"This is so beautiful," Kimmie praised. I slipped the robe off my shoulders, using an arm to cover my breasts despite the pasties on it. Even if they were my sisters, it felt weird wearing just lace white panties in front of them. "Oh, you're going to look perfect."

They helped me get into the dress and get it zipped up. Jo fixes my hair once I'm in it, again.

"We have a few things for you." Alice started, handing me a small box. "I'm sure you have something picked out but…"

"Shh," I cut her off, opening up the box. A set of gorgeous, shiny earrings were inside the box.

"Something new." She chimed as I put them on. "And blue."

Kimmie stepped toward me, handing me a larger box. "You don't have to open it right now. But it's your Bible from when we were young. I kept it. Something old. I know you don't pray like you used to, but I thought you might want it again."

"Oh…" I breathed out in surprise, taking it from her and running my thumb over the paper. "Oh. Thank you, Kimmie." I wasn't sure what else to say.

"And we did something borrow, too. I didn't realize Jo would cover that, but the more the merrier, right?" She waited for me to not, handing me a wide, flat box. "When you were little, you wanted to wear Mom's veil when you got married. I knew that wasn't going to be the case anymore. So… this is the veil that I wore at my wedding, instead. I thought that you might like that a little better."

Tears burned in my eyes and I had to blink it back. "It's perfect." I stepped forward, embracing her. Kimmie and Alice quickly joined in the hug. "It's so perfect. Jo, can you put it in for me?"

"Of course." She smiled. Libby and Jo both got the veil fixed to my hair.

With one last application of gloss painted gently across my lips, I feel ready despite the pounding inside my chest. It was strong, nearly vibrating, yet it wasn't the same nervousness that I had dealt with fighting my entire life. It was something good and positive. I was doing the right thing.

The summer air was comfortably warm. A June wedding had been a perfect idea. The ceremony itself was being held outside in a private little garden, blooming with flowers all along the outside, little boxes of butterflies and mints set out for guests to take as they went to the seats that had been arranged for them. It was everything that I had dreamed of when I was a girl. Well, almost everything. There were no bridesmaids or grooms, and my father wasn't walking me down the aisle. Instead, my sisters would be. They still had an important role even if it was a nontraditional one.

"Are you ready?" Libby asked me, beaming.

"I am." I nodded gently. "I am."

The sweet sound of a violin playing began. My arms connected with Libby and Kimmie's, Alice on the other side of Kimmie so that we were arranged from oldest to youngest. I waited a few seconds, taking slow and deep breaths before I looked at all of them and nodded again. I really was ready.

Libby's children are the adorable flower girl and ring bearer. They go first with a little encouragement. The traditional wedding march began to play. Sounds of my childhood, when everything had been easy and simple, echoed with nostalgia in my ears – all of the fake and play weddings that had been had with my sisters when we were young and goofy, pretending to be each other's husbands and running around with ridiculous dresses and whatever else we could find for make-believe. Mother had always gotten mad at us when we had stolen flowers from her garden in order to make our bouquets, but that had never stopped us from doing it time and time again. But this time, there's no criticism, no one here that didn't love me and Jackson unconditionally. Everything was the way that it was supposed to be. I truly believed that.

Everyone stood to face me, and I took a deep breath as my eyes skimmed across the audience. But they only have my attention for two or three seconds until my gaze landed on the man that was about to be my husband.

Forever an impossible and beautiful mixture of blue and green, his gaze locked onto mine. Jackson was impeccable, dressed in an Armani suit that made him look like a million dollars. His smile strained his cheeks and made his eyes sparkle more than usual. My own ached from the strength of the smile I gave. It was mesmerizing and I was unable to look away even as my feet began moving on their own accord, my train of sisters all going with me. As I got closer, the tears along his waterline threatening to fall past became clear. They matched mine perfectly.

"Hi," I whispered to him as I let go of my sisters. His hands took mine immediately.

"You look amazing," he replied. "Perfect."

"So do you," I smiled.

As the officiant began to go through his variant of the typical start to most weddings, I could barely focus on anything that he had to say. It was about love and gratitude, sweet and cliche. But all that I wanted to focus on was Jackson. I gave his hands an excited squeeze and he returned it. My heart was no longer pounding. All of those nerves had finally been sedated. That had never happened before.

The officiant then addressed both of us specifically and even then, it felt like Jackson and I were the only people on the planet. He emphasized the significance of the vows that we were about to exchange with one another. The cliches of the ceremony only take my attention when it was finally time for the vows.

"I, Jackson Avery, take thee, April Kepner, to be my lawfully wedded wife. I see these vows not as promises but as privileges: I get to laugh with you and cry with you; care for you and share with you. I get to run with you and walk with you; build with you and live with you. I will continue to be faithful and supportive and to always be a man that is good for you. I get to be your navigator, consoler, sidekick, best friend, and your husband. I will dream with you, celebrate with you and walk beside you through whatever our lives may bring. You are my person, my love and my life, today and always. I give you myself." Jackson's words were proud and well-rehearsed, something he had put a lot into. I nearly cry.

I should have gone first. Releasing one of his hands, my fingertips quickly swiped away the tears that had spilled past my lids. Crying at weddings was something that I had always been guilty of. My own was no exception.

"Jackson, you know me better than anyone else in this world and somehow still you love me. You are my best friend and true love. There is still a part of me today that cannot believe that I'm the one who gets to marry you. I've always had goals, aspirations, things I wanted to do. But when I met you, I learned what it was to dream. I've learned to dream of the things I deserve. I've learned to become a whole person again instead of just this worker bee and I vow to continue to be that person for you. I also vow to have the patience that love demands, to speak when words are needed and to share in the silence when they are not. I take you as my lawfully wedded husband." My voice cracked with emotion but it doesn't shake.

Noises of approval come from the crowd with each one of our vows being exchanged, clearly pleased. I had spent a lot of time going over mine, again and again, rewritten so many times that I didn't even remember what the first draft had looked like. When it came to epic lines, I was used to other people writing them out for me and preparing the delivery myself. But this time, I carried the responsibility of both. That light in his eyes, that sparkle in his smile – I must have done it right.

Rings are exchanged easily. The new diamond rested on my finger is large and flashy, the opposite of the subtle engagement ring that he had given me, a square diamond that could have been spotted from a mile away. His was a thick gold band with eight small, round-cut diamonds in a channel setting. Expensive and classy – his style.

The officiant pronounced the marriage officially, and let out the awaited, signature words.

"You may now kiss the bride!"

Jackson leaned forward into me and I met his lips eagerly. He gives a deep dip to show off for the crowd as he kissed me and one leg lifted up naturally with the backward bend, a few quiet hoops and hollers from friends following causing me to giggle against his lips. Beaming up at him and keeping the close proximity to him, my nose nuzzled up against his affectionately and I breathed him in. He was wearing his usual cologne. He smelled good.

"Hello, Mr. Kepner," I murmured against hips.

"Hi there, Mrs. Kepner."

As the crowd remembered its job at this moment, suddenly forty-four monarch butterflies were released into the air around us. It was the only thing capable of causing me to finally turn away from him, admiring the colorful orange wings that fluttered all around us and the crowd with their release. This was what I had always wanted, to be married in a big, beautiful field filled with butterflies. Ever since I had been a child – it was literally my dream. My nieces and nephews squealed with excitement at such a beautiful sight and I smiled even harder than before at their excitement.

"It is perfect," I sighed out dreamily. "Everything is perfect."


	18. Chapter 18

**_ JACKSON _ **

"The Kepner's are here!"

"April!"

"Jackson!"

"Look over here!"

"Look this way!"

_Terminal_ had an amazing release in the United States and Europe and was now having another worldwide release as it hit the eastern hemisphere. Three weeks after our honeymoon in Italy, April and I took another long plane ride for a few appearances in Australia and New Zealand. Even though I had already seen most of the world before knowing her, this was a bit of new territory even for me. I'd been in these time zones, but I had much been further north exploring the sights of Japan and Beijing.

Extending my hand to her, I helped her navigate the nude heels and strip of pavement between the limo and the red carpet as she got out of the car. They closed most of the height gap between us and made her legs look even longer and more gorgeous than they already were – much of which I could see from the high slit in her maroon dress. It would have been strapless if it weren't for the sheer lace overlay that covered her shoulders and arms. The necklace that she normally wore wasn't on her neck but both the engagement and wedding ring got plenty of attention as they shined on her finger, holding her clutch in front of her stomach and making sure that everyone could see it. It had been just over a month but photographers loved to get good pictures of it.

My hand rested on the small of her back as we moved slowly down the carpet next to one another. They loved the two of us even more now that we were married and the late release in Australia and New Zealand had caused another surge of support in our relationship. Speculation was still there, but now, it was mostly good things. Or complete bullshit. There was always that kind of crap out there.

The two of us separate for only a minute or two so that they could get some individual shots. I'm never quite as comfortable without her by my side on this side of the camera. It was hard to keep my eyes off other even when they requested looking this way and a smile. I give them my gaze and an occasional smile, but not much more than that.

Once the press had gotten their fair share of pictures of the both of us and a few comments made here and there for two or three-minute conversations, I wait for her by the entrance to the theatre. The press loved April – she had a contagious laugh and smile, a way of talking with people that just made them feel good and uplifted. She was just kind. When she joined me, my arm looped right back around her waist again like it was exactly where it was meant to be. As far as I was concerned, it was.

"Hey there, beautiful," I murmured, just barely bending down to give her a quick kiss before we stepped inside.

"Hi." April beamed up at me. "They love my ring almost as much as I do. It's so pretty."

"I only care what you think about it." I smiled. Of course, everyone else admiring it was a bonus. "It looks perfect on you. It almost sparkles as much as you do."

"So cheesy," she rolled her eyes, arm hooking around my elbow as we walked around.

It was crowded, though not as crowded as things had been for the release in New York and London. Sydney had proven to be a beautiful city from the little bit of it that we had seen, though, with the jet lag, that wasn't much. Sex was pretty much all that had happened besides sleeping in and waking up just in time to get ready for the premiere. Well, for her to get ready. I'd stayed in bed a bit longer.

Casting agents and scriptwriters both jump at the opportunity of getting a conversation with her. Since she had said that she was looking for the right project next and implied that she was being quite selective with it, script after script had been sent in. She had let me look through a few of them – it turned out that she was even pickier than I was, even with the plethora of scripts that came her way. She could have had literally any role that she wanted and it was clear that she would only take a role that she wanted. I would support her all the way. Getting back into photography had been nice and things were relaxed with neither one of us working.

"This is the last time we'll have to do this, you know," I murmured as we sat. "Last premiere."

"It is," her arm remained around mine and she leaned into me. "Weird, isn't it?"

"Mmhm," I hummed.

"Are you sad about it?" Our fingers locked together and her thumb rubbed against the back of my knuckles.

"Sad is not the right word." I lifted up our hands, kissing the back of her knuckles and smiling against them. My eyes slid over to her. "But it is the end of a chapter, you know? A good time for some reflection."

April nodded. "Well, you've heard the saying. Where one door closes, another one opens."

"You're right." I let out hands fall back to the armrest between us. "Are you nervous? Not having a clear next door?"

"Nope." She popped the syllable. "Because I'm happy right here in the present. I don't need to obsessively think about the present. Dr. Yang even said she thought if I wanted to go off my meds so I don't have to worry about them while pregnant, I could. Basically, a green light to actually get pregnant. She thinks I'm in a good place for it and I happen to agree."

"Oh, did she?" I smiled. "That's good. Because I think we've got the practicing part done."

"We do," she laughed. "We're very good at that part."

It was a little surreal to watch the movie on the big screen like this knowing that it was going to be the last time the two of us sat down and watched this movie together. The door was open for whatever we wanted to do working together, of course. Now, after months together, we knew our relationship was so much more than just working together. That insecurity was gone and validated by the rings on our fingers. A lot of the bad crap in our lives had been left behind.

The after party that comes after is equally massive to the ones that had been before. We both drink too much and don't see enough of it during the next day, but this time it was more about being hungover than it was being naked in bed together. Or, maybe a little bit of both.

But the Sydney Opera Course and Harbour Bridge were on our bucket list, managing to get out that night and see other iconic places in the few days that follow. We stay a few extra days. I was amazed by how little of the world that April had actually seen despite the fact that she was financially well-off for years before me. It seemed as if she had only traveled for the sake of work and not taken time to enjoy her. But now, we both were doing that. Even if in the past, I had seen the sights, it had always been from the edge of a photographer and not just a person. I'd always thought that I was helping her learn how to not work and never noticed that somehow, teaching her had taught myself, too.

"Oh, I'm so glad to be home!" April threw her hands up after stripping off her jacket, dramatically flopping down onto the couch. Her shoes flew up in the air briefly before hitting the ground.

"You missed this place?" I chuckled.

"I always do." She smiled. "This is my home. It makes me happy. I like our matching coffee cups and our little succulent babies. Even though one of them is starting to look a little sad."

"Well, we can work on that." I shrugged. "But get up." I offered both of my hands to her.

She took them, popping back up. "Why? What's up?"

"I want to show you something." Her brows furrowed curiously at me. "Shh."

Fingers interlocking with hers once again, I pulled her back to one of the guest bedrooms in the apartment that had been turned into a workspace for me. Photographs covered the walls from my work over the years, thick curtains were drawn in the room and kept it dark. Its use was hit and miss depending on whatever was going on. But when she had been out without me, work or other reasons, I had slowly cleared out the desk and other furniture that I had in it previously.

"Your… empty workspace?" She questioned.

"Wait." I held up a finger, striding across the room and opening up the curtains.

"Okay. Your empty workspace with natural lighting. I don't see it." She murmured.

"Close your eyes and take a deep breath." I paused, waiting for her to do so. "Okay. Now open them. Look around the room and take it in for what you say."

Stepping toward her as she walked around, I wrapped my arms around her shoulder and took a deep breath. I could tell still that she didn't quite get it but that was fine. I had always been the visual creationist between the two for us. I would make sure that she saw what I saw, whether it was now or in a couple of months from now.

"We'll change out the curtains for a lighter color, but I think we can keep the walls as we are. A crib on this side, white, and a wide chair that reclines for you, an ottoman with extra storage on the inside and a circular shag rug beneath it. A little table next to it in case you need it. The mobile can be the planets and the stars, we'll put something nice with his or her name on the wall above the crib. We can put the dresser on the other side, a mirror and some other decor above it. Whatever you like." My hands moved as I talked, trying to put my vision in front of her.

"You want to make this the nursery." There was some surprise but no question of it in her voice.

"I want it to be our baby's nursery, yeah." I smiled. "Maybe we can even keep up some of the photos. Well, one or two of the child-friendly ones. If you're okay with that, that is."

"This one should stay." Her finger pointed at a shot of the New York skyline where a monarch butterfly had flown right in the midst of the shot. I was lucky that it had come out clearly, orange wings looking vibrant against the mostly blue background. "It makes me think of our wedding."

"Then it'll stay." I leaned down and kissed her softly. "Since all the shots in our bedroom aren't enough." I teased. That had been her doing, wanting our memories on the wall.

The nursery ends up being ready before she's even pregnant.

Surprisingly, that's my fault.

Even though April was normally the one who got a little bit obsessive when it came to focusing on a new project, there was something about putting together a nursery that just made me feel good inside. She let me take the lead, opting out of being too controlling. Being there and being a present father, being more than just the one who got her pregnant, it served as some kind of reassurance that my fears about being a father wouldn't come true. That I would be more than the deadbeat dad that I had, that I would be worthy of actually being the child of her father. I wanted to do everything that I could for her even before the big event actually happened. The color scheme is shades of gray and green, settling on something gender neutral.

As she begins to remove the anxiety medication from her life, mood swings and headaches come. She takes a few days to just hang around the house and take it easy in bed with Netflix, rewatching the entirety of _The Office_ and _Brooklyn 99_. I make sure to get takeout from her favorite Chinese place.

Given that condoms hadn't been something that we had used throughout the duration of our relationship, frequently getting too caught up in the heat of the moment and forgetting to slow down, it was a surprise that it didn't happen immediately. Or that it hadn't happened already, honestly. Good luck or bad luck, it was hard to say. A mix of both given there had certainly been points where that kind of strain wouldn't have done either one of us any good, no matter how amazing the outcome.

"Do you think that we should go to a fertility specialist?" April asked me one day, sitting on my back and watching me go through photos from my most recent shoot. Her fingers draw patterns across my skin.

"Do you want to?" I asked without looking up. "Because I don't mind trying. Not at all."

"I know you don't," she laughed musically. "But I'm being serious."

"Well, it's your body. I think that's the kind of choice that you should make. I'm going to support you either way. If you want to go see a doctor about it, then we'll go see a doctor." It seemed simple enough to me. It was a problem that could have come from either one of us if it was a problem at all.

But it isn't necessary.

A month later, when her period is supposed to come, it doesn't. April doesn't waste any time to take the pregnancy tests under the sink that we had bought previously – nor ask me to go down to the corner store and get another box so she can make absolutely sure that it wasn't somehow two false positives. It's not. All the tests come back positive and when we go to see her obstetrician, the proof is there. A little bundle of cells that look nothing like a baby but she still lights up when she sees the cluster like it was the most magical thing in the world. I can't see what's right in front of me for once but I can see the joy that was glowing from her face.

"I think that Amy is a good name. It's cute." She murmured, staring at the copy of the six-week scan.

"You're just saying that because you've got _Brooklyn 99_ on your mind." I laughed. "It's a cute name but I'm pretty sure Amelia is going to say that you named her after her."

"Hmm, yeah," she nodded. "What about Ava? Or Sophia? Isla is cute too."

"What's made you get so set that it's a girl, huh?" I questioned, leaning forward and placing one large hand over her flat stomach. It covered it entirely. "It could definitely be a little boy. He could be a big hot shot actor like his mom. Or maybe an astronaut. I always thought that would be cool."

"Your head is too big to go to space. It would inflate more." April teased me, rubbing the top of my head quickly. "I just have a good feeling about it. A pretty little girl with her daddy's eyes and curls."

"As long as she gets your red hair." I grabbed her hand, kissing the inside of her wrist. "My one condition."

"Well, she wouldn't be a Kepner if she didn't," she laughed.

"She or he's definitely a Kepner." No doubt about that. "Do you think they'll want to be famous like us? And you know, I think we're going to have to eliminate any K names from the list. The Kardashian's might be pissed if we step on their brand like that."

Her eyes rolled though she smiled. "No K names. Got it. I'm pretty sure we're staying far away from the Kardashians. You might be a legacy but we built ourselves up off of talent, not names."

"At least one of them is a real businesswoman," I pointed out.

"Businessmen and women are always uptight and put money in front of morals. We are not raising someone who's going to get a business degree and go to some fortune 500 company. I'd like an astronaut. Or a doctor. An engineer. I think it would be cool if our kid did something completely different. My parents always wanted me to be exactly like that and I don't want to do that." She's happy to ramble on and I hang onto every word of it.

"So what if it's a boy?" I threw out there before beginning to list some off. "I like Luther. Andre. Eric. Something with meaning, you know. My middle name is Lewis, after Lewis Latimer. He was an inventor. The son of runaway slaves and ended up a draftsman in the Navy back during the Civil War. He's the reason that Edison's lightbulb was successful, by drawing up the electric light bulb to increase the lifespan and make them cheaper to produce. The only black American on Edison's team of inventors. He's in the National Investors Hall of Fame now."

"Really?" Eyebrows were high on her forehead and wrinkled it. "Wow. I've never heard of him. Gosh, there's so much I don't know. And I want to make sure that our baby knows that kind of stuff. She should. Or he, whatever. They should know."

"Agreed," I nodded. "Absolutely. I want them to learn as much black history as they can. It's important for him or her to grow up knowing that. That was one thing that my mom definitely did right."

That was big for both of us, after all. Learning from our parents.

There was both fortune and misfortune in the fact that both of ours had screwed us up in different ways. There was still damage there from the fact that my father had abandoned me when I was young enough that I barely remembered him and I knew that, I knew now more than ever with her stomach growing each week. All I wanted to do was be there for her. She wanted the same for our baby, I knew that. We had each been abandoned by our parents in different ways and now we knew that we would never be willing to do the same to our own child. We would give them everything that we had lacked.

Despite the pestering back and forth between us, when she hits eighteen weeks and there's another ultrasound scan, we don't find out the gender of our baby inside. We just place official bets. With the nursery already done, though both of us couldn't help but move and change things here and there, we didn't necessarily need to. She bought clothes for a little girl and I bought them for a little boy, plus some neutral picks here and there that we both picked out. Whatever didn't get used would get donated. She would be the one to make sure that we didn't waste anything – she was always like that. Even though multiple offers are made for throwing her a baby shower, all by other celebrities, but she says no.

Instead, a week is spent back home in Moline. The only presents from others that she was willing to accept were hand-me-downs from her sisters, which she took with a smile and open gratitude. They were hung up in the nursery immediately upon getting back to New York.

The closet and dresser are both completely full by the time that she was seven months pregnant and we have to go on a shopping ban to keep from needing extra storage space in the nursery before the baby was even born. It's hard not to. I wasn't the type to be frugal but I didn't necessarily spend money excessively – I bought what I needed and made sure that it was good quality, that was all. But when it came to a baby? It was easy to just buy and buy and buy.

"I think that your cankles are cute," I commented, kissing the bone there. "Very cute. Sexy, even."

"You're ridiculous," April laughed and squirmed, more ticklish than she had ever been. "And a liar. A terrible liar. You're going to have to at least come up with something reasonable to say."

"Mm, au contraire, I don't have to lie. I like you right now. You are the sexiest that you have ever been."

She shook her head. "There's no way that you actually believe that."

"I do." I quipped quickly. "I really, really do. I know that you know how much bigger your breasts and butt are because you've complained about both, and even if it may not be the most comfortable thing for you, I promise that it is very attractive from a caveman male perspective. Especially when you were a V-neck."

"Fat. I'm fat," she sighed. "All of the magazines have noticed it too, you know? I am not oblivious to it just because I have a little bit of pregnancy brain every now and then."

"Magazines always say bullshit no matter what is going on. You could have no baby bump whatsoever and the magazines would still say the exact same thing. But you're beautiful. At any size or weight, short or tall, skinny or fat, you are the most beautiful and extraordinary woman that I know." I cupped her face gently, making sure that she was looking at me as I spoke. "I don't want anyone else. Not a single other person in the world. Just you. You and our baby."

I meant every word of it.

At thirty-two weeks, I manage to finally convince her to do one of the many maternity shoot requests that she had gotten for various magazines. On the cover of Vanity Fair, she wore only a large robe made out of silk that covered most of her fuller breasts and was held over her pelvic area with the hand holding the bottom of her swollen stomach. Her belly button was popped out. She looked beautiful.

Belly Butter from Burt's Bees becomes both of our best friends. Every night, we make a routine of laying down together so that I could rub it on her stomach and thighs to reduce the appearance of further stretch marks appearing on her stomach. We talk and sing to the baby, picking a random song off of our phones and singing it to the baby together. It was hard for me to keep my hands off of her and the bump while she was like this. Feeling that baby move inside of her and respond to our voices was truly amazing. I could only imagine what it was like to have that inside. No comparison existed.

"What are we going to do about godparents?" I asked her. "Do you want one of your sisters?"

"No," her bottom lip jutted out as she shook her head. "No. I love them, but… this is if something happens to us and we need them to raise them, right? I don't think that my sisters would raise them the way we want. Not that they aren't great parents, of course, I'm sure they are. But they would just give our baby a different lifestyle."

"That's fair," I nodded my head thoughtfully. I hadn't thought too extensively about it – perhaps because we were both so obsessive about making sure that we were there for every moment. I didn't want to think about anyone else taking care of our baby for as long as both of us were around. "Who are you thinking about?"

"Who are you thinking about?" She countered, moving my hand so I could feel where the baby was cooking.

"I know that he hasn't been very present, but you've met Mark. He was at the wedding. He doesn't have any kids of his own but he gave me a lot of guidance when I was young and needed it." I raised my eyebrows, pausing and reading her face before offering another. "Or there's Jo. I know that you guys both care about each other a lot."

Her head nodded and she rubbed her stomach as she thought. "Jo would be a good pick. Her boyfriend's a doctor, you know? They would be pretty good parents, I think."

"I know, I've met him. He was at the wedding too." I reminded her gently. "It'd be a good balance."

"We'll think about it more." She decided.

Four days past her due date, though, godparents were among the last thing on our minds. Every time either one of us went online there was a new fake headline about how she had delivered to a boy or a girl, always throwing out random names and weights.

April was struggling to sleep with how big her belly had gotten and tried just about every solution that either one of us had been able to find one with little to no avail. It seemed like she had just hit that point where it wasn't something that she could get past. Pregnancy pillow after pillow had taken up a large space in our bed and we had tried new regular pillows as well, but she tossed and turned. I can't help but feel guilty because I fall asleep easily and, well, quickly. She didn't normally snore but she did when she was pregnant, and she did it loud. There was that little bit of me that wanted to get to sleep before she started like a freight train.

"Baby," she whispered, poking me awake. I grunted. "I think I'm in labor."

"Oh, cool," I rolled over to go back to sleep.

A few seconds passed and then it hit me.

"Fuck. What? You're in labor?" I rolled back over quickly, eyes widening and looking down at her belly. It was almost all that I could see in the dark. "Right now? Are you serious?"

"Well, I might have peed the bed otherwise." She blurted out. "One or the other."

Nearly knocking over the lamp in the haste to turn it on, it was clear that there was a stain of something liquid on the bed but it doesn't smell like the fouler of options. Three in the morning according to the clock, and it takes us less than five minutes to get shoes on and the hospital bag and head out the door, yet there was still traffic on the streets. That was just New York.

With everything lined up into place even though it came at an odd hour of the day, we get rolled into the hospital and the maternity ward immediately. Her regular obstetrician wasn't on call yet but there was no telling whether or not that would be the case by the time her labor was over. One of the parenting books that I had read said that labor could take something like ten to twenty hours for a first-time mother. That seemed crazy to me. How could it possibly take that long?

Of course, that was a selfish thought.

Even though it was uncomfortable to sit there and watch as April squirmed and screamed as what I imagined had to be absolute agony ripped through her body as it prepared itself to push out a baby, it was nothing compared to what she was going through. I let her squeeze my hand and my arm as much as she needed to, rubbing her back when she would let me and braiding her hair away from her face so it doesn't stick to it as she began to sweat. Her feet get rubbed twice for as long as she can stay still. Contractions distract her from that, of course. She was always on the squirmy side and the pain that she was in exacerbated it.

"Oh, god. I don't know how much longer I can this." That was hour two.

"Baby, you're doing fine. So good." I kissed her knuckles.

Hour four makes no sense. "Go get better ice chips! These suck!"

I do, of course. Questioning it would have been stupid.

"I'm going to marry the anesthesiologist. I'm gonna marry him so much." She cried out after the epidural.

Things ease up just a little bit after that and the pain gets easier for her to deal with. Contractions still come and go and only have smaller gaps between all of them. We play music to try and calm down which only lasted for about the first three or four songs.

But it doesn't last forever even if it certainly seemed like it did. Eventually, it was something in the afternoon and I was holding up one of her legs with one hand and holding onto her hand with the other. Even though I had told myself that I wasn't going to look when one of the nurses announced that she was crowning, But the idiot in me comes out and I look. Every guide had said not to freak out or be alarmed but there was that instinct seeing dark hair on top of a head coming out of my wife's vagina. It felt like something a little more out of a horror movie than a natural process that women all around the world went through every day. It made perfect sense, suddenly, that it was one of the most painful things that a woman could do in their lifetime. I admired it greatly but I did not envy it.

"Just one more push, April, your baby is almost here!" Dr. Fields announced. "One more push, you can do it. I promise you can do it."

April hollered out with a sound coming from her that I had never heard before, certainly not from her or even a wild animal. Her face twisted up agonizingly and I could see tears slip out her lower lids as she bore down to push our child out and into the world.

"It's a boy!" One of the nurses shouted out gleefully.

"It's a boy." I echoed in awe, glancing at April for a brief moment before the little baby that was held. It was covered in slime and blood, skin shades lighter than mine and eyes squeezed shut. One of the little legs kicked out.

"Jackson, would you like to cut the cord?" Dr. Fields asked.

It took a moment to process her question before I nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. I want to."

A pair of scissors was handed over and they instruct me on where to cut. There were two clamps on it and all I had to do was cute in between them. I took a deep breath before opening the scissors and lining it up with where they had said to, slowly clipping the cord. I knew that it didn't hurt April or the baby but that didn't make it any less weird to do. After it was done, the nurse took him and cleaned him up. I handed back over the scissors before moving to watch her clean him up. His head looked giant.

"Oh, April…" Every word in my vocabulary was suddenly gone. I wanted to tell April that I was proud of her and how much I loved her, how beautiful our baby was, but all I can do is let out tears. A moment later, our son started crying, and I let out a sob. It was so much more than love at first sight.

"How is he?" My wife cried out.

I can't answer and fortunately, I don't have to. The nurse finished cleaning him up and brought him over to my wife and I grabbed the chair, dragging it right by the bed so that I could watch her hold him.

Our little boy rested on his mother's chest and she held him gently. Her thumb gently rubbed against the little cheek and she sobbed, too, just like I had. The baby spits up a little bit on his lips and open and closed his mouth, a yawn coming out. We both let out a tired laugh. He was adorable. He was the most beautiful baby that I had ever seen and when his eyes finally open up to look at the new world around him, his eyes were a light shade just like April had wanted. He was everything that both of us had ever wanted and more.

"What are we going to name him?" I asked. My chin rested close on her shoulder, keeping both of them in my sights.

She fell quiet for a few seconds. "Do you like Marshall?" She booped the baby's nose. "Like Thurgood Marshall. Brown and Board of Education. Roe v. Wade. He was an honorable figure."

"Marshall Kepner." I nodded my head after speaking it out loud. "That's a good name."

"A good name for a good baby." April smiled. "You're our little Marshall, aren't you?" She placed a noisy kiss on his forehead and beamed as she looked down at him. I watched in utter awe as she bonded with him so naturally. There was no doubt in my mind that she was meant to be a mother. She was right to have always wanted this for herself. She was a natural at it. I could tell.

"He's perfect." I murmured. "You did amazing, April. You did such an amazing job and now he's here."

"You should hold him. Hold your son, Jackson. Our son."

Looking down at her with wide eyes, I took a deep breath before giving a nod of my head, suddenly terrified just to pick him up for a few seconds. He looked so small and delicate in his mother's arms and I felt as if I could have easily broken him if I did something wrong. Making sure to support his head like I had been told over and over ago, I picked him up from April's arms and brought him to my chest. The nurses had said that he was ten pounds and two ounces, amazing that she had birthed him naturally, but he still looked so tiny. I stood up and then sat down on the edge of the bed so that I was still right next to her, making sure that April could see everything.

Holding my son in my arms, I don't want to hurt the fragile little cherub so I try to find a balance between squeezing him and holding him. I smell her and just stare at him forever. I was just sitting there telling him how much I love him and how I never want to let him go and was kissing him. I cried a little bit, trying not to make a scene but I was completely overwhelmed with love for him and serenity.

"I love you so much." A tear fell on his cheek and I quickly wiped it away, kissing where it had hit.

"You're going to be such a good Daddy." April cooed.

"I love you so much," I repeated the words but this time it was to my wife, turning my head toward her and placing a kiss on her forehead. "I love you both so much."


	19. Epilogue

**_ APRIL _ **

"Come here, munchkin." I cooed.

Buttoning up the front of my blouse with one hand, I shifted Marshall up and held him against my shoulder. Even though the first couple of weeks it had been difficult, now that he was two months old, he was breastfeeding like a champ. There were still difficulties through the night and no one had gotten a full night of sleep since. A few recommendations had been made about getting a night nurse so that I could get back to work sooner, but I had rejected it every time. I liked being a full-time mom. I would want to get back to work soon but I liked soaking in this time. It wasn't something that was we would have forever.

"Oh, you're such a good boy." I patted his back gently, rocking slowly. "So sweet. You just love your Mommy so much, don't you?" To my words, he spat up on the rag on my shoulder. "So sweet."

Placing a nosy kiss on the curls that were already rapidly growing on top of his head, I held him there for a few minutes longer, continuing to rock back and forth with my foot on the ottoman as leverage. He was so snuggly with me just like this. Jackson and I had talked a little about being to sleep train him, and even though I knew that it was something that would be good for us long term, it's so hard to put him down when he was being so sweet in my arms just like this.

His lips smacked together loudly and he made a little whining noise. I soothed my hand up and down his back, rubbing circles. I was running on four hours of sleep from the night before and it would have been easy to fall asleep with him in my arms just like this.

Two months had passed since Marshall had been and even now, holding and cradling him was still the most special thing in the world. Some people had said you could spoil the baby by holding too much but I'd read a few articles that said the opposite and gone with it. Maybe it was picky just to listen to what I wanted to but in this case, I couldn't have cared less. This was my baby boy and I wanted to spend as much time holding and loving him as I could, especially since he spent so much of his time asleep. I had cut out social media since he had been born other than allowing a few pictures to be posted when I was still in the hospital, and Jackson had posted a couple of others, but I had learned from some of the women that came before me. It wasn't worth the energy to worry over what people said online when I could spend all of the time in the world being present with my baby.

The door to the nursery opened up and it drew me out of the trance that Marshall had put me in, blinking sleepily a few times and smiling up at my husband. He didn't say a word at first, and there was a soft roll of my eyes when he pulled his phone out his pocket to take a picture of the two of us. It's casual, nothing professional – I'd never let him talk me into taking professional photos of me despite his occasional inquiries about it.

"Hi there, Daddy," I said softly.

"Hey Momma," he replied, taking silent steps across the hardwood toward me. "He sleeping?"

I twisted my head back to look at Marshall's face. "Yeah." I nodded. "He is now."

"How about we put him down and eat some lunch, huh?" Jackson suggested.

"Mm, okay." A little kiss was placed on our baby's forehead, running my thumb over his curls. "Do you think we could do some grilled cheese with bacon on it? I have a big craving." I pouted at him teasingly.

"You're not pregnant again, are you?" He laughed quietly.

"No," I chuckled. "Because then I would be asking for a grilled cheese with extra cheese and extra bacon. But don't forget to do the little sprinkle of garlic salt on the bread. That makes all the difference."

"So you've mentioned." He smiled as he stepped over, kissing the crown of Marshall's head before putting another quick kiss on my forehead. "Come and join me once you get him down."

Watching him go for just a brief moment, I sat there a little longer to rock him back and forth, making sure that he was sound asleep. Marshall was good about falling asleep in my arms or Jackson's arms, though he had yet to do so in his crib on his own. I stood up slowly from the chair and bounced gently as I took a few steps toward the crib. He stayed asleep. Even as I bent down and slowly lowered him into the crib, he didn't make a noise of protest. Picking up the blanket in his crib and folding it, I set it down on the dresser. I stayed another minute before grabbing the baby monitor and stepping out of the nursery, leaving the door cracked behind me. It was hard not to linger there and watch him, attached as ever. I was lucky that I didn't have to go back to work and that I could take off as much time as I wanted to.

Inhaling deeply, I could smell a little bit of garlic from the kitchen down the hallway. I followed my nose and found him working over the stove, a grilled cheese in one skillet and a small pot next to it – tomato soup, probably. I had eaten it a lot when I was pregnant but I was pretty sure that was out of the picture between breastfeeding and that we hadn't had much sex since his birth. We were beginning to get there again now that I had healed up from the birth, but it was a slow process with all the sleep deprivation.

"That smells really good," I complimented.

"This'll be done in just a second." He glanced back at me. "Did he go down easily?"

"Yep. Out like a light, just like someone else I know. Except he doesn't snore," I teased.

"Good." Jackson smiled, turning the sandwich in the pan. I moved to the other side and grabbed two small plates and bowls, setting them down on the counter. "Thanks. Want to grab some parsley from the fridge so we can make it fancy, or do you want to keep it simple?"

I hummed. "Let's just keep it simple for now because I am ready to tear into it. I'm so hungry all the time with breastfeeding. Do you want to do three sandwiches and split the third one?"

"Sounds like a plan." He agreed.

Getting the second and third sandwiches prepped so it could go straight onto the pan, I cut the first one in half diagonally once it had been tossed onto the place. The soup was finished and I poured some into each bowl while the second sandwich. I don't wait before dipping a triangle into the soup and taking a bite out of it, letting out a loud moan at how good it tastes.

"You're so dramatic," Jackson let out a laugh, leaning over and giving me a quick kiss.

"But it's so good." I smiled. "So, so good."

"Do you know who wants to come to see the baby? They texted me a few minutes ago." I raised my eyebrows. "Izzie. She said she found the cutest little costume for him. Didn't tell me what."

"It wouldn't hurt to post another picture of him. He's grown so much." Taking another bite from my grilled cheese, I wiped greasy fingers on a paper towel and walked over to the living room to grab one of the framed photos of him that he had taken on one of his nicer cameras shortly after we had come home fro the hospital. It had been a messy thing, pee and poop galore, but the photos are adorable. "Look at him. So big." I stretched the photo over to him.

"He is growing like crazy." He agreed. "Maybe we can do some Mommy and me photos."

"What about Daddy and me?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Who would take the pictures?" He finished up with his own grilled cheese and I handed the knife over to him to cut it. We both sat down at the counter with our lunch.

I scoffed, covering my mouth before swallowing. "I'm not completely incompetent behind a camera."

"You're good with your phone, I'll give you that," he chuckled. "But have you noticed that whenever I offer to take some kind of photos of you, you always say no?"

My brows furrowed together, thinking back. "I mean… no?" I questioned. "You haven't really offered."

"Maternity photos and right after Marshall was born. Oh, and with your sister for The Rape Foundation." Jackson pointed out. "I offered all those times and you said no each time. It doesn't bother me or anything like that, I was just wondering if there was some kind of reason behind it."

"Huh." I huffed out. "I guess you're right. I hadn't noticed that."

"Is there a reason?"

"No, not really," I shook my head. "I guess I've just spent so much time on the other side of the camera that… I don't know. I like having things between the two of us be special and away from work. I haven't really thought about it, to be honest. It's not a bad idea." I looked down at the photo of Marshall between us, smiling. He was a happy and healthy baby. Labor had been hard and painful, and far too long, but there was no doubt in my mind that he was completely worth it. I had smiled more in the past two months of my life than I ever had before. I didn't think that I was ever going to stop smiling like this.

"The first time we met, you were on the other side of that camera." He pointed out, taking a giant bite.

"Well, yes, working. And I thought that you were a total tool." I toed at him gently.

"I thought you were uptight, so I think we're even because we were both kind of right." Jackson gave a shake of his head. "But I'd like to do it some time. Take photos of you. It's normal for photographers to take pictures of the thing that they love most in the world and I've already got plenty of Marshall. So I think I need to get some of the only person who is capable of tying with him."

I smiled. "Maybe once I get rid of all this baby weight, huh?"

"Why wait?" He questioned. "You've talked about wanting to do something meaningful for your next thing, right? Women always talk about how unrealistic it is when celebrities just drop all their weight and act like it was the easiest thing in the world. So what if you're heavier than you were before? You're more beautiful now than ever. And that's a high bar."

"I'll think about it," I promised.

And I do.

Putting my vulnerabilities in place in front of him was something that I had been comfortable with for a long time. Maybe it was because the very first time that it had happened, it hadn't been my choice. I had been thrown into the deep end and from there, it had been so much easier.

In a simple black bra and underwear with Marshall just in a diaper, every stretch mark, freckle, and other imperfections gathered over the years are on display. There's rolls in my stomach when I sit forward, the kind that pretty much every woman had, but it felt more prominent like this. No Photoshop or any other editing. That had been a big part of it. I had a tinted moisturizer on my face and my hair was smooth and long. But everything else was as natural as it could be. My thighs are thicker and hips were wider than they ever had been before. My body is very different. Better, worse, that was a subjective opinion that I didn't want to get into.

But that's okay. That was perfectly, wonderfully okay.

The beautiful baby boy was resting on my thighs as he looked up at me with wide eyes and the most magnificent joy that I had ever seen in my life, shining in his eyes and his toothless smile, that was all of the reassurance in the world that I needed that the changes in my body were okay. That those changes were about more than just me and any degree of vanity, that it was about bringing more life and beauty and joy into the world. He was worth any change in my body, he was worth more than anything in the world. I'd gain two hundred pounds and all the stretch marks in the world. That gorgeous little smile on his face, a mix of Jackson and me, was worth absolutely everything. My fingers tickled across his bare stomach and giggles spilled from his little lips as he squirmed against my thighs.

"Hi, baby. Hi there, my beautiful boy." I leaned forward and nuzzled my nose against his as he continued to laugh with the most buoyant joy. His eyes scrunched up and his mouth was wide open.

The sound of the camera shutter clicking reminded me that it wasn't just a moment between mother and son. Jackson was close to the both of us with his camera separating us. The moments between Marshall and myself were just as important to the whole of the photoshoot as were the intimate shots of just me and the changes in my body. This was going for the whole picture, not just me.

Fortunately for both of us and Jo who was here to help with me and Marshall, he falls asleep easily on my stomach, little hand stretched over and pointing out one of the stretch marks. Once the picture is taken, she took him so that Jackson and I could finish.

Every stretch mark and roll in my body is captured, postures both flattering and unflattering taken. My bra is taken off and hair brought forward to cover the nipples, showing off the both of my breasts are heavier and the fact that there are a couple of stretch marks along the outsides of them, too. They were less prominent than the ones of my hips but still there. But those stretch marks meant food for Marshall and the ability to breastfeed, to bond with him through that manner and to ensure that he was getting the best possible source of nutrients for him possible. Any change that might have seemed negative in me was something positive for him. That was a part of parenthood, of motherhood – putting the wellness of your child above all else.

"One more," Jackson promised, shifting down from squatting to his knees. "Lean forward just a little bit more. Put your shoulders into it a bit more." I listened to his instruction, hunching them forward. If I had sucked in my stomach then it might have been something sexy but just relaxed like this, my stomach stayed folded over my waist.

"Is that good?" I raised my eyebrows, looking up at him for approval.

"Yep." He popped the syllable and nodded his head. "Perfect, actually. I've got everything I need."

Standing up, I put on my bra and grabbed the robe that had been set aside for me and slipping into it, tying it tightly across me. Jo had Marshall in his little portable crib, pushing at one of the plush clouds in the attached mobile. Everyone loved him and his chubby cheeks, that big smile and beautiful eyes. He was completely irresistible when it came to falling in love with him and getting adorable photos.

"Look at those sweet little cheeks," Jo cooed at him. "Are you sure that I can't just take him home with me and keep him forever? Because I am totally down for doing that."

"Unfortunately, I think I'm going to have to take him home with me." I laughed.

Jackson leaned down and gently scooped Marshall up from his crib. We both stilled to make sure that he didn't wake up and when he didn't, let go of the breath that we were holding onto. I packed up the portable crib, exchanging goodbyes with Jo and make sure that she got into her car and drove away safely.

"Look at him." I twisted around in the passenger seat to look at our son. "He's so precious."

"Just like his Momma." At a stop light, Jackson leaned over and gave me a quick kiss.

Shortly after we got home, Marshall does wake up for another feeding session and I take care of it. He feeds and burps, wetting his dapper before I get the chance to put him down properly. But once he had a clean diaper along with a full stomach, he fell asleep in my arms. It takes two attempts to get him down in his crib, sleeping calmly.

Pulling my hair up into a bun on top of my head, I chawed into a fresh shirt that doesn't have any breastmilk stains on it. With his old office having been transformed into Marshall's nursery, now when Jackson needed to focus and work on something, he usually took it out to the living room and would spread out there. Sometimes if he really needed a separate space, he would sit out on the balcony where the only noise seemed to be distant city sounds and the wind whipping around. But since these photos didn't need to be edited, perhaps just cropped or looked through. I wasn't really sure what all there was to do with them at this point.

"How's it going?" I asked, tucking my feet underneath me as I sat down on the couch with him. The photo on the screen was of Marshall and me, his face scrunched up with laughter. "Oh, that's my baby."

"He looks just like you when he smiles so big like that," Jackson commented, reaching for me and wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him.

"Only because you can't see his eyes. His eyes are all you." I smiled.

"I want to show you my favorite shots from it." He put a kiss on my forehead. "You look beautiful in all of them, but these are my favorite. I like your curves and your stretch marks."

Jackson clicked through some of the different shots in his laptop and pointed out details of his favorites one. Even looking at the exact same photo that he was, I knew that he saw something different than I did. He had an eye for the world that was unique. It was something to be cherished and I hoped that our son would inherit the same wonderful way of viewing the world around him that he had. I see the curves and the folds but I don't particularly hate them, especially not with the fond way that he talked about them. He was a genius behind the camera. Even if I was critical of those pieces of my body, something about the way that he had managed to capture it combined with hearing him talk about it made me feel so good about all of it. It was no wonder that everyone that he had worked with on his last big project had been so complimentary of the way that he was around them, on top of the beauty of the portraits that he captured. They loved him almost as much as I did.

"I love you." I leaned over, kissing his cheek. He turned his head and captured my lips in a quick kiss that I leaned into, waiting until I was out of oxygen to barely separate. My forehead rested against his for a few seconds and his nose brushed against mine affectionately.

"I love you too, Princess." He smiled at me.

"Have you decided what you want to call the photoshoot yet? It needs a title, right."

"Yeah," Jackson nodded his head. "Body and Soul. You have both of mine, and I have both of yours."


End file.
